


Broken Souls

by LynnKutsujuu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Play, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Begging, Brutality, Canon-Typical Violence, Caring Dean, Caring Sam Winchester, Collars, Crying Dean, Dark, Dark Dean Winchester, Dean Gives Oral Sex, Demon Dean Winchester, Dominance, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Fluff, Evil Crowley, Evil Dean Winchester, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Gang Rape, Guilty Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, Murder, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Other, Physical Abuse, Platonic Relationships, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, S&M, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Smut, Submission, Torture, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 59
Words: 86,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7856863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnKutsujuu/pseuds/LynnKutsujuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader is on her way home, and decides to stop for a drink. She runs into Dean Winchester not knowing that he's a demon or that she will ever see him again, or that walking into that bar may have been the biggest mistake of her life.<br/>((This story is almost complete. I'm going to finish the ending before I update so that I can post the last few chapters all very quickly in sequence.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the notes at the end when finished! I hope you like it!  
> Also, TRIGGER WARNING!

_Of course,_ you thought bitterly as you felt the first rain drops hit your shoulders. You had been walking home to your aunts house from your college campus after your night class. Walking faster, you hoped you could somehow beat the impending rain. That didn't work out. Not more than a few minutes passed and it was down-pouring hard. _I knew I'd be walking, why the hell didn't I bring a jacket?_ you grumbled inwardly, rubbing your arms as the chilled air started sinking into your wet skin. There was a bar nearby that you had considered going to before, but always felt uncomfortably awkward about the idea of sitting at a bar all by yourself, and you didn't have any friends you could drag along with you. _I could use a drink anyway,_ you thought as you ran across the street, deciding to use the rain as an excuse to splurge on a few shots because _why not_?

            The place was a little crowded for your taste and smelled a little too much like alcohol and sweat, but you were already inside so you found a seat at the far end of the bar next to a man in a red flannel shirt who seemed more focused on the beer in his hand than anything else. You were hit with the sweet smell of musk that could only have been coming from him. When the bartender finally got to you, you ordered a shot of Tequila. You didn't drink often, but when you did you preferred to get straight to the point rather than sipping mixed drinks all night. It's not like they tasted a whole lot better anyway. After you paid the bartender for your drink, you sat there holding it on the table for a minute, staring down at it, turning it slowly with your fingers.

"Something wrong sweetheart?"

Slightly startled, you looked over to see the man you were seated next to smirking at you.

"I uhh- no just taking my time!" You said. You flashed him the sweetest smile you could, trying not to seem weird. _Being socially awkward sucks._ You picked up your drink and casually threw it back in one mouthful, grimacing a little at the taste. The strange man was still looking at you, his green eyes glinting in amusement. You blushed a little as you shifted awkwardly in your seat under his prolonged gaze. You had just realized that this man was insanely attractive. My god, he had a jawline for days!

"Name's Dean, what's yours sweetheart?" he said, his smile reaching his eyes as they formed crinkles on the edges and you about swooned.

"I'm Y/N, nice to meet you!" you said as you stuck your hand out in greeting. But instead of shaking it like you expected, he grabbed your hand and pulled it up to his lips, gently kissing it without breaking eye contact. You couldn't hide the huge embarrassed smile on your face as he released your hand, and you were already starting to feel the effects of the Tequila. _Man, this guy is smooth._

            "Let me buy you a drink Y/N" he said, turning back towards the counter without waiting for your response as he signaled the bartender and ordered two shots of whiskey, sliding one over towards you, then asked him to leave the bottle. "Uhh, thank you!" You said politely as he lifted the glass to his lips, never taking his eyes off you. He smiled and waited until you brought yours up to your mouth before draining his own. He reached for the bottle and started filling each of your glasses a second time. You hesitated for a moment before putting your hands up in front of you saying quickly, "Oh, I should probably stop, I'm reaching my limit and need to be heading home soon. I got classes tomorrow." You really didn't want to leave, but you had to be a responsible adult here! Besides, _this guy is way out of my league, and even if I could land him, I doubt he's interested in more than a one night stand._

            "No problem darling" he said, smiling as he reached out, downing the shot he poured for himself. You got up from the stool, and paused for a moment before reaching for your own glass. He looked at you in a mix of confusion and amusement as you took the shot and set it on the counter. "One for the road" you said, laughing a little as the effects of the alcohol was already beginning to take its toll on your brain.

He smiled a devilish smile and offered to give you a ride home. You knew better than to accept rides from strangers, no matter how handsome they may be.

"No thanks" you said, "It's only a 15 minute walk from here and I could use the fresh air. It was nice meeting you though, and thanks so much for the drinks!" you exclaimed, smiling and waving at him as you started away.

You didn't notice, but his eyes followed you the entire way until you were out the door.

 _At least it stopped raining_ , you thought, suddenly enjoying the cool air as you stepped out onto the street and headed towards your house, slightly wobbling a little from the effects of the alcohol. You were sad that you didn't even give him your number, _I mean damn he was good looking. But he hadn't asked anyway so it's not entirely your fault. He probably just wasn't interested. He looked much older anyway, so you were probably just some kid to him._


	2. Eyes of a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader reaches her house, only to learn that her world was already shattered... By a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!

_Shit fuck dammit!_ you hissed when you stubbed you toe on the corner of the hallway wall leading to your bedroom. You silently cursed, offended by the wall as if it hurt you on purpose and you were entirely innocent in the matter. You listened for a moment before continuing down the hallway, hoping that you didn't wake up your aunt. It wasn't that you needed to be sneaking around, but you had gotten home so late and didn't want to disturb her and have to explain your drunk walk home in the middle of the night.

            Quietly and carefully, you made your way to your bedroom. You tiptoed through the doorway not bothering to turn on the light, and closed the door as gently as you could, trying to make as little noise as possible. You sighed happily as you lazily meandered over to your bed and started reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, _best part of the day_ you smiled inwardly. Before you could accomplish your task, you were cut off by something you definitely weren't expecting to hear.

 

 

"Hello Y/N"

 

 

            Jumping at the unexpected sound, you turned around to see where it had come from and gasped loudly when you saw the dark shadow of a man standing in front of your bedroom door watching you. " _Deaan?!"_ you whispered loudly, your voice sounding almost squeaky from the shock in your voice. _How is he here? How the hell did he get into my room? Was he here when I came in? Am I about to die?! What is going on?!_ Your thoughts a flurry of panic as your tried to process the situation, your heartbeat instantly accelerating to an alarming pace as you took a step backwards.

            "Heya princess" he crooned, his smile menacing, completely different from how it looked in the bar earlier. He took a slow step forward, stopping when he saw you backing hastily away in response. He raised his hands up as if to appear harmless and continued speaking. "Come on darling, I'm not gonna hurt ya" he sneered before slowly resuming his approach.

            " _w-w_ -what are you doing here?" you asked, fear building steadily as you tried your best to make sense of what was happening and still very dizzy from the alcohol. You matched him step for step, backing up as he pressed forward. You circled each other slowly until you had traded places and it was your back in front of the door instead of his. One more step back and you felt your back up against the door, suddenly feeling very trapped. Before you could react he strode forward, closing the distance between you until you could almost feel him against you.

            " _L-_ look, you have to go" you said, putting your hands up, slightly touching his chest in an attempt to maintain what little space there was left between you this tall, scary, muscular man. He looked down at you with what appeared to be lust in his eyes, and pushed himself roughly against you, grabbing your waist with one hand and putting the other against the door behind you. You could feel him hard against you through his jeans as he ground into you. Though you were terrified, you felt a twinge of arousal as the sudden intimate contact, not fighting it off right away. He leaned in and you could feel his warm, whiskey scented, breathe against your neck. He started kissing up along your collar bone and up towards your ear before whispering gruffly "I want you Y/N".

            Desperately trying to regain your composure and maintain focus, you ignored the sensation down below and leaned your head away from his, pushing your hands against his chest, where they were currently trapped. To your surprise he allowed you to push him away, backing off until there was a little more than a foot between you, staring at you intently with lust blown eyes.

            "You need to leave," you said, steeling your voice in an attempt to sound threatening so that maybe he would take the hint and listen. _This guy must have gotten way to drunk, that's all,_ you thought to yourself as you reached behind your back to open the door and escort him out of your aunts home, praying this would be as easy as you hoped and that your aunt wouldn't be woken up. As you began turning around towards the door you caught something in the corner of your eye that you didn't notice before when your eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark. _Is that blood on his clothes?!"_. In a wild panic and without thinking, you flung yourself out the door and bolted down the hall. Seeing a light peeking out from under your aunts bedroom door, you grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, preparing to yell at her to call the police. As soon as you had the door open though you stopped in your tracks, frozen at the sight within.

 

 

 _nonono no!_ was the only thought flooding your mind, your mouth gaping as you stared at the horror before you.

 

            There was blood everywhere, on the bed, on the walls, pooled on the carpet, and right smack in the middle of it all was your beloved aunt. The body was so mangled and ruined that it was almost unrecognizable. Her face was nearly torn off, her arms were jutting at an unnatural angle and you could see bone sticking out of flesh.  It appeared as if she had been brutally mauled by a grizzly bear. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight as you stood there, eyes wide in horror, unable to comprehend the reality of it all.

 

"Guess I got a little carried away", the deep voice came suddenly from behind you, in a tone that sounded more like someone who accidentally made too much pasta as opposed to brutally murdering an innocent woman. You flung yourself around only to come face to face with what could only be described as a monster.

 

You screamed as loud as you possibly could, and the sight of his black demonic eyes bearing into you was the last thing you saw before you were swallowed up by darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please send me your feedback and tell me what you liked, didn't like, and how I can improve! Next chapter will be out soon!


	3. I'm a Demon, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader awakens to find herself in a strange new place, and not entirely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!

            Your throbbing headache is what pulls you out of the darkness. Groggy and confused you lie there motionless for a moment, slowly blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you look up at the ceiling. It's made of stone, and there are candles hanging from a metal holder directly above you. _This isn't my ceiling,_ you realize. All of the memories start flooding back to you all at once.

_The bar near your house._

_The man in the red flannel shirt... Pressing against you._

_He's covered in blood._

_Blood. Everywhere._

_Your aunts mangled corpse lying on the floor._

_So much blood._

_The those inky black eyes staring directly into your soul._

_The stone ceiling that isn't yours._

You gasp as you quickly sit up, looking around for the monster waiting to rip you apart.

_The monster that ripped your aunt apart._

            The room was somewhat large, and you found yourself sitting in the middle of a queen sized bed with a dark wooden canopy frame. The walls were made of red brick, and there were no windows, just an old looking wooden door, the only light coming from the candles above you and a few mounted on the walls. The room was bare except for an old fashioned looking oak bookshelf in the corner, and a small table and chair on the same wall that the bed was against. _He's not here,_ you noted, slightly relieved but no less terrified. You got up off the bed and quickly scurried over to the door, carefully pulling the handle only to realized that it wouldn't open. _I'm locked in here!_

"Oh god, oh god! Please!", you said, tugging uselessly on the door handle. You spun around the room, hoping you'd missed something, some way out, _anything._

 

There was nothing.

 

_Your aunts body mangled on the floor._

_Bones jutting through skin._

You couldn't get the image out of your head as you started to hyperventilate.

_So much blood._

"Why is this happening?" you said, whimpering and putting your hands to your face as tears started welling in your eyes.

            You hear boots against stone. Footsteps right outside the door, followed by the sound of a metal latch sliding. You step back from the door just in time for it to fly open, revealing the one thing you wished wouldn't be there. Dean smiled at you, a condescending smile, as he casually stepped into the room closing the door behind him. His eyes were green again. _Maybe I imagined those scary black orbs?_ You thought for a moment. _Did you imagine the horrible murder scene you at your house?_ You knew the answer to that question.

"Hello little girl", Dean spoke in an almost singsong voice as he moved towards you. "You weren't trying to leave now were you?"

You continued to stumble backwards, tears still in your eyes. " _Y-_ you get away from me!" You yelled, the squeak in your voice betraying your fear. "I wanna go to home! Let me go home. _Why_ -Why are you doing this?"

He continued his casual yet menacing approach.

"Please", you whispered as the first tear fell down your cheek.

            "Oh, come on now baby," he teased, cocking his head slightly to the side. "Don't you wanna play?" That time his voice came out gruff and menacing. You reached the back wall, with nowhere left to go. _You were trapped._ "I saw the way you looked at me in that bar. I could sense your heat when I touched you in your room. This _is_ what you wanted isn't it Y/N?" He continued, spreading his arms wide as he moved steadily forward until he was so close you could almost taste him.

" _N-n-n-no_ nono!" you said in a small voice as you tried to turn your head away from him, leaning into the cold brick wall behind you. "Why?" You asked, looking anywhere but his face.

            He grabbed your chin with his hand and forced your head forward so that you met his gaze. "Because I can" he sneered, then blinked and his eyes turned back into those inky black pits. You screamed and tried to pull away, but he held you in place, leaning his weight against you, hand still holding your jaw in place. You looked sideways, down, anywhere but into those eyes. "Look at me!" He commanded angrily, jerking your head roughly, smile gone from his face. You slowly raised your gaze to meet his. Whimpering in fear when you stared into those dark, empty, unfeeling eyes. He was grinding against you again, just like last time, pinning you to the wall, his hardness pushing against your hip. You gripped the fabric of his shoulders and tried desperately to push him off of you, but to no avail. Your own strength was no match for his.

"What.. What are you?" You said, your voice barely a whisper. His cold dark eyes glowered into yours.

            "I'm a demon, baby", he said. He smiled and his eyes turned back to that beautiful emerald green. But you knew they weren't real. You saw his real eyes and they were as black as his soul. Dean slammed his lips against yours, violently, controlling the kiss. You tried to pull away but he held you firm, forcing his tongue into your mouth, almost causing you to gag as tears started streaming down your face. He violated your mouth, grinding into your even harder.

            He broke the kiss and leaned forward and breathing into your ear and he moved with lustful urgency. His hand released your face and slid down your chest before roughly gripping your breast. "Stop! Please!" You begged and squirmed as he painfully squeezed. You raised your hand to slap him as hard as you could but he caught your wrist before you made contact. He had you in a vice grip and pain shot up your arm, causing you to cry out. Your knees buckled and he let you sink down onto the floor. Towering over you he released your wrist and slid his hand behind your head, gripping your hair by the roots and yanking your head back as you cried out in pain. His other hand reached for his belt buckle and pulled it free before undoing the button on his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You tried to pull away but his grip on your hair held firm, so when you moved it only caused more pain.

"It seems like you don't want to play nice." He said, his voice low and gravelly. "I guess I'll just have to teach you your place".

"Please! It hurts, stop! Please don't! I'll do anything!" You begged, crying and pleading, as he pulled his erection free from his boxers.

            "Of course you will" he crooned as he started to rub the tip against your lips, "Now open up sweetheart. And no teeth or I'll tear you apart with _mine_ ". The last word came out in a threatening growl. Every time you tried to move your head, pain seared through your skull, so you held your mouth closed tight, crying and whimpering against his length.

            "I said, _open up"_ he growled loudly, yanking harder on your hair until you gasped from the pain. He took the opening and roughly shoved himself into your mouth, pushing your head against him. He fucked your mouth at an unforgiving pace, while you cried and gagged. "Fuck, Y/N" he moaned, driving himself to the back of your throat over and over again, staring down at you with savage lust.

            "That's it baby. Fuck... You feel so good." He growled. "I'm going to come inside your mouth and your gonna swallow it, you got it?" He pumped into you faster and more urgently. "You better not spill a single drop... Ah fuck, _fuck."_ His hips started to buck at an uneven pace. Holding you firm, he shuttered and moaned as his come roped into your throat. You couldn't breathe, his hot come shot down your throat and you gagged, trying to cough it up, but he pinched your nose with his other hand, forcing you to decide between swallowing or suffocation. After he was sure that you had swallowed every last drop, he pulled out of your mouth and rubbed his slick length along you red cheeks, using you to wipe himself clean.

            After a moment, he released the grip on your hair by flinging you off of him so that you hit your shoulder on the floor, hard. After putting himself away he abruptly turned away and stalked out the door, slamming and bolting it behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!! Again, this is my first fanfiction and I'm always open to feedback and would love to hear what you think! Next chapter will be out soon! <3


	4. Out of The Pot, Into the Frying Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader makes a quick decision... And well, the title of the chapter says it all.

_This is a dream. This is just a really bad dream. It has to be,_ you thought to yourself as you sat near the edge of the bed, hugging your knees to your chest, your eyes red and puffy from crying. _I'm so stupid. If I never stopped into that bar, none of this would have happened._ You wished you could go back, take it all back and fix everything. Suddenly startled, you heard the latch slide back on the door, and you hurriedly scooted yourself back against the headboard, hugging yourself tighter, praying that you could just disappear.

            The door slowly swung open. You didn't even have to look to know what was standing in the doorway, staring at you with cold and uncaring eyes; even if they _were_ green for the moment. The demon stared at you for a few moments before approaching the bed, not bothering to close the door behind him. As he drew nearer you clenched your eyes shut, burying your face in your knees and pressing your back into the headboard as if you might be able to move through it if you tried hard enough. You felt the mattress sink and you curled your toes inward as the demon sat down on the edge of the bed, no more than a foot away from your body. _Please don't hurt me,_ you thought pitifully, trying to make yourself as small and invisible as possible.

            For what felt like a long time, nothing happened. No one moved and no sound was made, but you could feel his presence next to you, his eyes burning into you. The smell musk and leather emanating off of him. You tried hard not to start trembling as you hugged your knees for dear life, awaiting what was going to happen next.

            After an uncomfortably long silence, when you couldn't bear the fearful anticipation for another second, you meekly lifted your head just enough to glance at the man sitting close to you. He _was_ staring at you. You could see the smile in his eyes from the crinkles that formed along the edges, even though his mouth was barely turned. The look itself was so genuine it almost appeared kind. Almost as if he wasn't a scary monster, or demon, who could tear you apart with his teeth if he was in the mood. You thought for a moment how if things were different, you might've fallen in love looking into those beautiful green eyes.

            His hand reached out towards your face and you flinched expecting the worst. But no violence ensued. Instead his fingers lightly brushed the hair by your face in an almost comforting gesture. You sat perfectly still, besides the slight tremble of fear that you couldn't control, afraid that if you moved then the spell would break and the demon would come out.

            He ran his hand gently along your cheek before finally speaking. "You scared of me sweetheart?" he asked. Dean's lips suddenly curling into a mocking smile. You didn't respond, shaking almost violently now as you sat, eyes wide in fear, waiting for him to give you another reason to say yes. "See, cuz I thought maybe you enjoyed the little time we spent together this morning." he said in an equally mocking tone, his eyes trailing down your shivering body. "That was a nice blowjob you gave me there, darling." His eyes glinted maliciously as they shot back up to meet yours. "How about we go for round two?"

            The fear hit you like a bolt of lightning as you suddenly found the will to scream. And scream you did. " _NOOO!"_ You shrieked, shoving his hand away from your face as you leapt off the bed and tried to escape towards the open door. Before you could take more than one step away from the bed, Dean, now standing, caught you by the arm and spun you around to face him as he pulled you roughly against his chest. _I don't want to die_ was all you could think as your mind spiraled with fear. You did the only thing you could think of that might hurt him. You brought your knee up and rammed it into his crotch as hard as you could. His grip on you loosened as he doubled over, roaring in pain. The sound was inhuman, like a savage animal. You didn't hesitate at the opportunity as you ran to the door, pulling it shut behind you and bolting it so that the demon couldn't follow.

            "Y/N!" Dean bellowed from behind the door as you took a panicked step back. "You're gonna regret that you little bitch!" he shouted as he banged once on the door with his fist. Deciding that waiting around probably wasn't the best idea, you dashed down the hallway, your feet echoing on the hard stone floor as you ran. As you rounded the first corner you heard a loud crash of splintered wood from behind you. _Shit!_ you thought as you realized what that sound meant.

_He's coming._

 

            You could hear Dean's booming voice echoing along the stone corridors behind you as you sprinted past dozens of doorways. "Come on sweetheart! You're only making this harder on yourself. Why don't you come on out and _maybe_ I'll go easy on ya. I might even decide not to rip you up like I did your lovely aunt."

 

_No way,_ you thought. _No chance in hell were you going to go back and face that monster._

            You bounded around another corner and saw a set of large double doors to your right. The door was heavy as you pulled it open and slid inside, backing slowly into the room, hoping the demon wouldn't guess where you'd gone.

 

 

            "Are you lost, _love?_ " said a man behind you in a British accent. You turned around to see where the voice came from. The room was huge with arched walls. It was dark even with the candle stands lining the walls and the huge Victorian chandelier hanging from the middle of the raised ceiling. At the back of the room were steps going up to a raised platform that had what appeared to be a throne at the top. There were two men standing at the bottom of the steps on either side, and seated on the throne was an odd looking man, with short brown hair and a black suit, staring down at you.


	5. Fall River, Massachusetts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader discovers how helpless she really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            The doors behind you flew open simultaneously and you whirled around to see the demon behind you. "Looks like you picked the wrong door" he said in a quiet growl.

_You're caught with nowhere left to run._

            Not knowing what else to do, you turned back towards the stranger seated above you and ran towards him, hoping that maybe just _maybe_ he would save you. "Please! Please help me!" You begged desperately. "Please don't let him take me, please! I want to go home!" You sobbed pitifully as you begged the strange British sounding man and collapsed on the floor beside his throne, almost trying to hide behind it. Dean approached you with a bloodthirsty look in his eye, but stopped when he reached the edge of the steps.

            The figure in the chair turned and looked down at you. "Oh come now my dear", he said. "There's no need to cry. Crowley's here. Now why don't you tell me your name?" He reached his hand out to you as you peered up at him through your tears.

_Crowley?_

            . You carefully took his hand and stood up slowly, still shaking. " _I-_ I'm Y/N...What is this place? Where am I?" you asked. "Ah yes, how could I be so rude!" He responded joyfully. You see, I'm the king of Hell, and you're in my home. I know it can be a bit dreary, but I assure you it's quite cozy once you get used to it." said Crowley as your eyes grew wide in shock and confusion.

            " _I-_ No n-no you're not telling me that I'm in Hell?!" you asked. _No no no this isn't happening. This isn't even POSSIBLE._ You heard Crowley chuckle a bit before responding, "Oh don't be so dramatic, love." He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We're not in Hell. We're in Fall River, Massachusetts. Now, as much as I love idle chit-chat, I don't want to hold up whatever fun you two are about to have." He said, nodding at Dean who had come up behind you without you realizing. _What?!_

            Dean grabbed you by your waist and threw your over his shoulder. "No!" You screamed. "Please! You said you'd help me!" You kicked and fought, but to no avail. "Oh no, I don't believe I did." Said Crowley with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as Dean carried you away out of the room. "Nooo! Please! Please!" You repeated over and over, even after the doors has closed behind you, your voice echoing through the halls.

            Dean didn't bring you back to the room you had woken up in. Instead he continued down the same hallway that you had been running down in your escape effort. There was a heavy steel door at the end of the hall, which he flung open with his free hand before carrying you inside. The door lead to a smaller hallway. Darker. The smell hit you instantly. _It smells like death,_ you thought. It was a horrible rotting stench of flesh and burnt hair filled your nose. The stone walls were dark and damp, with moss and mold appearing in scattered places. The hall was lined with steel barred doors that resembled the kind you would expect to see in a prison. A scream suddenly erupted from one of the cells, and you could hear faint moaning coming from another.

            Dean carried you into one of the cells on the far end of the hall before setting you down and dragging you by your arm to the back wall of the small room."D-Dean, please don't do this!" You begged. "Shut up" he said, ignoring your pleas as he grabbed both of your arms and held them above your head. You felt the cold touch of metal clamping around your wrists, holding you in place. He leaned down until his eyes were level with yours and you could feel his breath on your face. He blinked and his eyes turned to black, but only for a moment before they returned to their green hue. The look he gave you was resentful and malicious. "You know what happens now, right?" he said.

_I fucked up,_ you thought. _I made him angry and now he's going to kill me._

"Now... You're going to pay for being naughty. And it's going to hurt". There was a savage glint in his eyes, and it was terrifying.

"D-Dean, Dean please." You said, struggling against the metal cuffs. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorr-"

            Dean smacked you hard across the face. "You don't get to say my name unless I tell you to, skank!" he shouted. He was fuming, his breathing heavy, his muscles tensing, and his fists clenched tightly. It was then that you noticed something else. He had a tattoo on the underside of his right forearm. It was some kind of strange symbol, and it was glowing red.

            The demon reached his right hand behind his shirt and your eyes widened in terror as he pulled out a horrifying looking blade. It was made of bone, and it had what appeared to be teeth running along one of the edges. You struggled desperately against the shackles, but froze the moment he put the blade up to your face. He brought it up until it was less than an inch away from your left eye, then held it there. "I could kill you right now" He said. His tone low and cold. After a moment he lowered the blade away from your eye, lightly tracing it against your skin down to your throat, then past your collarbone stopping at the center of your chest.

"P-please.. D-don't hurt me." You said, trembling again.

            "Oh you can beg all you want, but there's no getting out of this." He said. "And I _will_ kill you. But I think I'd like to have a little fun first. I've always wanted a toy like you to play with." He slid the blade under your tank top and cut it off of you as you whimpered at the harsh movements. After your shirt had fallen to the ground in pieces, he used his left hand to undo your pants before bending down to slide them off of you. "No! Stop it!" You kicked and struggled but it only made it easier for him to slip them off. You were now all but exposed in nothing but your bra and underwear.

"Now" he said "That wasn't so hard was it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm immediately beginning work on the next chapter because of how this one ended sort of in the middle of a big scene. I hope you enjoy! Thanks! <3


	6. Be a Good Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mark of Cain takes control, and Dean teaches the reader a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            The anger never left Dean's eyes. In fact it seemed to be growing and with it the mark on his arm grew even brighter. He stared at you for what felt like a long time before starting to turn away. However, before you could even register what happened, he doubled back and his fist connected with your jaw with brutal force. You couldn't even scream from the shock of the sudden pain. His fist connected with you again, this time hitting you hard in the ribcage. You could have sworn you felt something break but you had no way of knowing. You tried to kick out at him with your feet but that only made him more furious as he hit you over and over, the knife still in his right hand, edge facing inwards. When he finally stopped, his left hand flew up to your throat, squeezing tight enough to hurt but not so hard that you couldn't breathe. "Are you _really_ still trying to fight me?" He growled. "Oh that's just cute. You really don't wanna get out of here alive do you princess?"

You had trouble speaking with his hand clenched around your throat but you managed to speak in a raspy voice. "Y-You're a _monster_." You hissed, instantly regretting your mistake, but the words were already out there.

            His eyes turned back into those deep black inky orbs as he squeezed your throat hard enough to stop your airflow. He brought the knife in his other hand up to your throat and dug it into your collar bone just deep enough to make you bleed.

_I'm going to die,_ you realized.

_I'm going to die right now and there's nothing I can do about it_.

_Absolutely nothing._

_I don't want to die..._

            Just as the darkness was starting to creep up on you, Dean growled and let go of your throat. You gasped painfully, trying to pull in as much air as you could. He turned away from you, this time for real, and stared hard at the blade clutched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were turning white. You wondered what he was thinking about.

_Maybe contemplating how he wants to go about killing me?_

_Perhaps he's deciding what pieces to cut off first._

            You shivered at the thought, crying quietly in fearful anticipation. Your body and face throbbed in pain, and you knew there were already bruises forming. He looked over at you with a vehement expression on his face. It looked as if he was fighting some kind of inner struggle, and whatever it was, it was probably going to end in a lot of pain for you, followed by a slow death.

            Out of nowhere he stormed out of the cell and disappeared out of sight. You let out a shaky breath you had been holding without realizing it. You could hear his loud footsteps leading away from you, followed by a loud squeak of a metal door, like the one on the room you were in, opening.

"What? No! No go away! Please!" You heard someone nearby shout, followed by a bloodcurdling scream.

Then, _silence....._

 

            You saw Dean appear in the doorway again. His eyes had returned to their green color, and his scar was no longer glowing. But he was covered in blood. His hand and the blade it carried was dripping in blood. It stained his shirt and pants, and there were bits splattered on his arms and face. He grabbed a small white cloth from a bucket outside of the doorway, quickly wiped his hands and began cleaning the blood off his blade. Once he had finished, he threw the cloth back into the bucket and walked over to you. You whimpered and tried to back away but you were trapped by the metal cuffs that held your arms in place above your head. He wrapped his hand, still covered in blood but less so than before, around the back of your neck, gripping your hair and tilting your head back, but not hurting you. He looked you up and down, his eyes wandering all over your body. The bloodlust in his eyes had diminished and changed into a calm and callous demeanor.

"Did you.... _kill_ him?" you asked. He looked at you with an expression that told you how stupid of a question that was.

            "I want you to listen to me very carefully, alright?" He said in a calm yet threatening manner. "I'm going to cut you, and you're not going to make a sound. And when I'm done, you're going to promise me that you'll be good. No more running away. No more pathetic little attempts at fighting me." He began running the blade gently down your stomach. "And if you don't follow my rules.." The knife travelled down below your abdomen, and he leaned in to whisper into your ear. "I'll make you wish you had it as easy as that man in the next cell over did". He ran the blade over the outside of your panties, making you squirm as you tried to get away.

           

"Hey" he said, putting a little more pressure on the blade, causing you to tense up. "What did I say?"

"I-I'm sorry" you whispered tearfully.

            "Shhhh" he comforted as he kissed your forehead and ran his fingers through the back of your hair. You let a small whimper escape your lips as he glided the knife over to your inner thigh. It was nearly impossible to keep yourself from trying to pull away, but you didn't want to find out what would happen if you continued to defy his orders. You felt a cold sting and cried out as the blade bit into the soft flesh of your thigh. "What did I say"? Dean whispered into your hair. Before you could respond you felt another jolt of pain right next to that spot, and as you opened your mouth Dean roughly pressed his lips into yours, muffling your cries. Tears were rolling down your face as Dean continued to kiss you. You could feel the blood dripping down your leg. He cut you three more times before moving up to your stomach and continuing. You couldn't hold the screams in anymore as he dug the blade excruciatingly slowly across your midsection. He stared deeply into your eyes as he continued his delicate torture, as if he didn't want to miss a single moment of your pain. He drew bloody lines on your chest just above your cleavage, then leaned in, caressing your wounds with his mouth, tasting your blood as he soothed the pain with the gentle brush of his tongue. Then, pulling you into a close embrace, he started into your back. Long and deep lines running all across your back, all while you cried in agony against his shoulder.

            Once he finished, still holding you in his arms, he whispered into your ear again. "Now, aren't you going to thank me?"

You were in complete disbelief at the implication. But defeated, and afraid of what else he might do to you, you quietly whispered "T-thank you". He leaned back and looked into your eyes. His own had turned cruel as he gave you a gloating smile, gently touching the blade to the back of your neck. "T-thank you, what?" He mocked.

"Thank you..s-sir?" you said hesitantly. He removed the knife from your neck and began gently caressing your cheek.

"And, are you going to be good for me from now on Y/N?" he asked. You couldn't bring yourself to speak so you just nodded your head, hoping that would be good enough.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer he took a step back to inspect his handiwork. "I think you look even prettier now than before.. Though that really isn't saying much."

He winked at you before leaving you alone in the cell, still hanging by your arms, sobbing and shivering in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought! The story isn't over! <3 <3


	7. Bath Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader gets a rude awakening in her cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            You weren't sure when, or even how you'd fallen asleep, but when you woke up you were lying on the cold stone floor. Your hands were still bound, but no longer attached to the ceiling. The metal had dug into your wrists causing dark circles to form on your skin around the edges of the cuffs. As you tried to move, pain seared through your entire body. Looking down at yourself, you could see cuts and dried blood covering your skin. There were bruises already yellowing on your midsection, and you could feel the ones on your face throbbing. You noticed an empty bucket placed in the corner and could only guess what it's purpose was. There was also a cup of water and a small bowl of what you assumed was supposed to be food. You hadn't even realized how thirsty you were until now.

_How long has it been since I've eaten?_

_How long have I been here?_ It felt like days, at least.

            Once you mustered up enough strength to work through the pain, you managed to crawl over to the food and water, using your fingers to scoop the unidentifiable mush from the bowl and downing the water as if your life depended on it. After you were finished, you used the bucket in the corner, and then carefully limped over to the door, trying to see out of the small window of bars in the center of it.

_Nothing._ Just darkness, and the occasional suffering moan from someone else somewhere in this scary dungeon.

            Still exhausted, you moved back to the spot you woke up in and curled up in a ball, shivering from the cold. You wondered about that man, Crowley, whom you'd met earlier, and about what dark tortures Dean would have for you next time he showed up.

 

You prayed he would _never_ show up.

 

_Maybe he'll just let me die down here?_

_Would that be least painful route?_ You weren't sure. You just wanted to go home.

________________________________________

 

            You gasped awake suddenly in a painfully cold shock, shivering violently as you realized that someone had dumped ice cold water on you. The cold wasn't the worst part. The water was _soapy_. It seeped into you wounds, burning and stinging as if the cuts were being remade all over again. Trying to scramble away from the horrid sensation you looked up to see Dean standing there with an empty bucket in his hand.

            "Rise and shine, princess!" He said in a gravelly voice, smirking down at you. He tossed the bucket he was holding aside and bent down to pick up a second one that he'd brought with him. You whimpered and lifted you hands to protect yourself from another douse of water, but it never came. Dean put the bucket down in front of you and kneeled next to it. "You're fucking filthy" he mumbled as he reached into the bucket of non-soapy water, pulled out a rag and squeezed some of the water out. When you tried to crawl away, he grabbed your shackled wrists and stopped you. "Sit still and this won't hurt as much." He said, mildly annoyed as he put the cloth against your skin and started scrubbing. It wasn't too rough but the cloth scraping against your open cuts was more painful than the soapy water had been, and made you gasp in pain and start to pull your arm away. The hard warning look he shot you was enough to make you shut up and stop struggling. Instead, you bit down on your lip, trying not to make any more noise other than the occasional whine that you'd accidentally let slip.

            He was surprisingly meticulous about it and it made you wonder why he even bothered cleaning you like this. _He's just going to kill me anyway, right? Why does it matter if I smell, or if my wounds get infected? It's not like he cares about my wellbeing or anything._

            After he'd finished up, he silently threw the rag back into the bucket and carried it out of the room. When he returned a few minutes later he was holding an odd looking black leather strap in his hand. He knelt down next to you and wrapped the leather around your neck. _It's a collar?!_ You thought to yourself. _You've got to be kidding me._ He snapped two metal ends together in the front and it locked in place. Once it was secured around your neck, he pulled out another, longer piece of leather. _A fucking leash too?_ He latched the end of it to the front of your collar, and then shot you a sadistic smile. "Well now, aren't you a pretty little bitch?" he mocked, standing up and patting your head to add to the humiliation.

            "Stand up." He ordered, tugging on the end of your leash so that you couldn't refuse. You stood up awkwardly, feeling extremely sore, the cuffs still rubbing uncomfortably against your wrists. He reached behind your back and shoved you towards the door with his other hand.

 

"Please" you begged.

 

"Please what sweetheart? What's wrong?" He said in a falsely sympathetic tone.

 

"Please.. Please don't hurt me. P-please let me go home. I'll be good I swear. I'll do whatever you want. Please." You said, tears welling in your eyes again.

            "Aw baby" he crooned, wrapping his arms around you from behind and leaning down to nuzzle your neck. "You _are_ going to be good. I'll make damn sure of that." He said before suddenly biting down on your neck, _hard,_ making you cry out in pain. "Because if you aren't," he paused to kiss the bite mark on your neck. "Well, then I'll get to really find out what you taste like". He smiled a wicked grin against your neck before releasing you and shoving you forward again as he forced you to walk down the dark hallway and out of the dungeon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll have the next chapter out as soon as possible! Thanks for reading! I would love to hear what you think so far! <3


	8. I've Never Done This Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean can't contain his lust any longer as he forces the reader into a different kind of "torture".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!  
> (Don't miss the notes at the end of the chapter!)

            Dean guided you back down the hall, past the room with the large double doors. Turning a corner to the right at the end of the hall, you came upon a staircase leading up to the next floor. He nodded, signaling for you to ascend the steps. After another turn and a few more unknown doors, the demon lead you into a new room. This one strongly resembled the one you had been staying in when you'd first woken up in this place. There were only a few differences. The table was slightly larger and there was a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass sitting atop it. At the end of the room was a old fashioned wood burning fireplace, and in the corner nearest the door was another open doorway, leading into what was presumably a bathroom. Unlike the last room, this one did in fact have a window. It was barred, and you sighed inwardly, noting that it would probably be useless to try and escape through it.

            Dean pulled the door shut behind him when he entered, and bolted the lock on the door before turning to you, unhooking the leash from your collar and tossing it aside. He pulled a small metal object out of his pocket and reached over to grab hold of your wrists. It was a key. He unlocked the shackles and tossed them onto the floor alongside the leash. He hadn't said a word, but the hungered look he gave you suddenly made you aware of how exposed you were, still in just your bra and underwear.

            You flinched and staggered back fearfully as he abruptly took a step towards you, but he simply brushed past you and walked over to the chair at the table. He took off his red flannel shirt and draped it over the back of the chair before sitting down. You could see his toned muscles moving beneath his black t-shirt. Grabbing the bottle of alcohol, he poured himself a glass before picking it up and returning his gaze to you.

"Take off your bra" he said coldly, before calmly taking a swig of his glass.

 _No, dear God, please,_ you thought to yourself as your pulse quickened and you crossed your arms over your chest protectively.

Dean let out a long sigh before taking another drink. "Y/N..." he said

"I'd be happy to come over there and help you, but I don't think you'd like my methods as much." he said in a low voice, staring hard at you.

 _Ok,_ you breathed quietly, trying to calm yourself and keep from shaking. You reached behind your back and carefully unhooked your bra, but continued to hold it against your chest as you bit your lip uncomfortably. His steely gaze bore into you and you felt extremely small beneath it. You turned to face away from him to shield his view of your body as you slowly let the bra fall to the floor. A small shiver travelled down your spine as you lifted your hands back to cover your chest a second time and peeked over your shoulder to see the demon, waiting for your next order.

"The panties too" He said, never looking away from your eyes.

            "I-...." You stopped yourself out of self-preservation. Keeping the front of your body turned away from him, your hands slowly moved down to the seam of your underwear. Slowly hooking your thumbs under the fabric, you continued. "P-please... I-I haven't... I've never.." Your face was bright red as you moved as slowly as possible, delaying the inevitable.

"You've never what?" Dean asked. "You've never been naked before?" he jeered sarcastically. He look down at your ass, still clothed. "All the way" he growled lowly.

            Feeling your eyes begin to water, you pushed your underwear down until they fell around your ankles and slowly stepped out of them. "Turn around" he ordered, and you obeyed, turning to face him, one arm shielding your breasts and the other hand lowered to protect your bottom half. His eyes glazed over with lust as he looked you up and down, his eyes trailing over every inch of your scarred body. He took one long final swig of his drink, emptying the glass and setting it down on the table before rising.

            Dean walked towards you with a predatory stare, pulling his shirt off as he moved and tossing it aside. _Damn, he's fucking hot,_ you couldn't help but think. The thought of what would happen next terrified you though, and you tried to take a small step back but he had already closed the gap between you. You gasped as he pulled you into him, spinning you so that your back was pressed up against his strong chest. His hands slid down to your waist, squeezing tightly as he buried his face into the side of your neck, kissing you up and down along your shoulder, suckling and nibbling as he went. You felt a flare of heat in your lower region as his hard length pressed against your lower back, his jeans becoming tight against the growing bulge.

            The panic returned to you as his hands slid up to your arms and roughly pulled them apart, exposing your breasts. He gripped one tightly, kneading it with his hand and pinching your nipple, causing you to gasp from the slight pain. His other hand trailed down your body, resting between your thighs as his fingers reached your core, grazing over your clit. The sudden sensation shot through your body, as you tried to maneuver yourself away from his warm calloused hands.

            Your struggles seemed to only encourage him as he ground himself harder against you, and whispered in your ear between kisses. "You like that?" he cooed, nibbling on your earlobe. He pinched your nipple harder, causing you to whine in protest. "You want me to fuck you, baby? Right here?" he growled breathlessly as he worked his finger in circles around your entrance. A sob escaped your lips as your began struggling furiously against him. "Stop! Please, please don't! I've neve-" He rammed a finger inside you, causing you to cry out and clamp down against the sudden painful intrusion. "Shit, you're so tight." he said as he worked his finger vigorously inside of you. "We'll have to fix that."

            Dean walked you forward until you reached the edge of the bed before removing his finger and shoving you aggressively down onto the mattress. You screamed and frantically tried to crawl away off the other side of the bed, but he grabbed you by your ankle and dragged you towards him. He crawled on top of you, straddling your hips as he grasped your wrists and tied them together above your head with a rope that was already attached to the headboard. You screamed and pleaded for him to stop, but he ignored you, kissing his way down your neck and over your breasts, enveloping your nipple with his mouth. His knee pushed itself between your legs, forcing them apart as he nudged his body between them. He ran his tongue in circles around your nipple before sucking and nibbling down on it, making you cry and scream even louder. He worked your other nipple with his hand, squeezing and pinching as he ground his hips against you greedily.

            Releasing your breasts, he slid down, gripping your thighs as he pinned your legs apart, kissing his way down past your navel. You weren't sure what he was doing until you felt his hot breath against your sex. You might've gone mad from the wonderful sensation if this were any other situation. He lips pressed gently against your folds, and you felt his tongue lightly caress your lips. You had to fight yourself to keep struggling, not being able to deny that the feeling was extraordinary, and he smiled against you as he felt your hips involuntarily buck towards him. You felt pressure build up inside you as he sucked, and his tongue ran circles around your clit.

"Please." You whispered, your begging torn between wanting him to stop and wanting release.

            He moaned into you, increasing the sensation, driving you nearly to the edge. "Come for me, baby" his whispered before continuing his relentless torture with his mouth. As his tongue ran over your clit rapidly again and again, you lost control, bucking your hips frantically and crying out with pleasure. Your body shook and shuttered as he licked you gently through your orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it so far! This scene isn't over yet! The next chapter will be out shortly.


	9. Eyes On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader makes another mistake, and pays dearly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING

            You snapped back to reality as Dean removed his hand from one of your thighs and moved to line his fingers up to your entrance.

            "No!" You screamed as you tugged on your restraints, kicking your legs wildly and rolling your hips to the side. The foot of your free leg came back and as it shot out again it collided with Dean's face.

            Dean reeled back, growling loudly in pain, pure outrage plastered all over his face. His expression turned dark and you froze. His eyes flooded black as you realized you'd made a grave mistake.

            "I-I...N-no, I'm sorry! I- please! Please, I'm sorry!" You wailed in a fear-stricken panic. Tears flowed freely down your face as you tried to use your legs to push yourself away from him, but you were still tied to the headboard and had nowhere to go and no way to shield yourself.

            Dean stood up from the bed and loomed over you with hatred in his black, inky eyes. His hands moved over his belt, undoing the buckle and tugging it free of his jeans.

"P-please" You cried as you trembled beneath the demon's cruel gaze.

"Please, Dean. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Please!"

Dean folded the belt, grasping the buckle in his hand. He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you onto your stomach.

"No no, please don't!" You sobbed into the pillow.

            He brought the belt down hard across your ass. The sting was so unbearable, all you could do was scream and wail uselessly beneath his wrath.

"What" _whack!_ He began, bringing the belt down again and again to accentuate his words.

"did I" _whack!_

"say" _whack!_

"about" _whack!_

"saying" _whack!_

"my name?" _whack!_

            He kept up a merciless pace, hitting you in the same spots over and over again. He moved from your ass to the sensitive underside of your thighs as you sobbed, screamed, and babbled incoherently. As he moved up to your back, the pain grew even more unbearable as the belt bit into your skin where you had been cut the night before, causing your wounds to reopen and start to bleed again. You lost count of how many times he hit you. The agony so terrible that you couldn't breathe. He paused his steady rhythm only for a moment as he flipped you back onto your back. Dean hit you on the front of your thighs, your stomach, and your chest, reopening your cuts. He beat your skin raw, slamming the belt against your sex, relishing in your screams with a savage rage. He struck the belt twice across your face before finally stopping his assault. He let his eyes change back to their usual green, but they were no less fierce and terrifying. You'd stopped struggling. Your whole body on fire as you lay there bloody and choking on your own tears.

            Throwing the belt aside, he began undoing his jeans and yanked them down along with his boxers before climbing back onto the bed and forcing himself between your legs. Dean reached up and pried your mouth open before shoving two fingers inside. "Suck" he growled menacingly. Completely broken, you obeyed him, closing your lips around his fingers and sucking lightly, coating them with your spit. When he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and replaced them with his own lips. He kissed you forcefully and violently, forcing his tongue into your mouth. His hand moved down between your legs and without warning, he shoved both fingers inside of you. His mouth muffled your cries as he worked his fingers deeper and harder, stretching your hole.

            "I'm going to fuck you so hard, Y/N." He said in a deep gravelly voice as he continued pushing inside of you. "You said you're a virgin, right?" he asked, and you nodded weakly through your tears. "Well," he smiled sadistically. "then this is going to hurt". He pulled his fingers out of you and shoved them back into your mouth, forcing you to taste your own juices as he lined his himself up with your opening, rubbing his length up and down along your folds.

            "You're going to take my cock like the little whore you are, aren't you bitch?" He goaded roughly as you whimpered. The tears wouldn't stop falling. "Because that's what you are, you know. A worthless, ugly, skank." He moved the tip of his erection just outside of your entrance. "Say it" he said darkly. "Say you're a whore". You gasped between breaths and opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. He put his hands on your already sore hips, grabbing them with bruising strength. "Say it" he growled.

            "I-I'm..a..whore" you said meekly, and as soon as you got the word out he drove into you, burying himself to the hilt, making you scream in agonizing pain. "That's my girl" he whispered as he stared deeply into your eyes, his own blown with lustful desire. You felt something rip, and you looked down to see blood slicked around his hard length as he pulled it almost all the way out of you before ramming into you again at full strength. "God damn" he grunted as he began pounding into you. "So fucking tight Y/N." He slammed himself into you over and over, grunting with every thrust as you cried and pleaded pathetically. Your entire body was aching from the beating and every movement hurt as you were rocked mercilessly by his relentless pounding. Bringing his hand up to your throat, he grasped you tightly, choking you while he continued to ride you ruthlessly.

            You could still breathe under his grip on your throat, but it made it more difficult. Your screams and cries from every brutal thrust now came out as raspy whimpers. You clenched your eyes shut, trying to avoid his fierce gaze, but the moment you did his fingers dug into your throat, forcing your attention. "Oh no baby, eyes on me" he said, pounding into you vigorously, never letting up for even a second. You stared up at him with grief in your eyes. Grief for what he had done to you, and what he'd taken from you. "Just look at me baby", he repeated in a course voice. "Fuck! You're so good" he groaned as his pounding grew more desperate and urgent. "I'm gonna fill you up Y/N. You ready?" He said breathlessly as his rhythm became erratic. "Fu-fuck!" With one final thrust you could feel him throbbing as he came undone, releasing his load inside of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be out soon! Please let me know what you think so far!! ^_^


	10. Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brief transition of what happens after the events of last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            Once he was finished, he pulled himself out of you, then reached up and untied your bindings. Afterwards, he got up and headed towards the bathroom without saying a word. You could hear the running water of the shower as you lie there motionless, staring up at the ceiling with silent tears running down the sides of your face. Your entire body ached, cuts stinging, bruises throbbing from the belt and the places he had grabbed, wrists burning from the rope that had been binding your hands, and worst of all, the painful soreness between your legs where he had brutally violated you.

_Why?_ you thought. _Why me?_

_Is it because it's my fault that my aunt is dead?_

_If I never stopped at that bar... If I never drank with a demon... If I just went home... If I wasn't so selfish... She might be alive. She would be sitting on the couch watching her favorite soap opera, and I'd be sitting on my computer, wearing my old pj's and fuzzy socks. I would still be a virgin, thinking about boys and college essays._

The shower stopped.

_No._ Another tear slipped down your cheek.

_Maybe he'll go away. Maybe he'll just leave me here._

The bathroom door opened.

You closed your eyes and prayed.

           

            A blanket was lightly thrown over your body, and a moment later the mattress sunk down from the weight of another person. Your eyes clenched tighter and you prayed harder in your mind.

  _Let it be over._

            The minutes ticked by. Eventually your tears dried, but every moment was filled with the fear of the moment his hands would touch you; hurt you. An hour passed and nothing came. There was a sound. It was faint but there was no mistaking it. Taking a deep breath, you slowly tilted your head to the side and opened your eyes. Dean was lying in the bed with you, outside of the blanket, with his back facing you. The sound you'd heard was his faint snoring. For what must have been hours you didn't sleep, instead, just lying there with your eyes boring into his back, you watched him breathe and listened to his steady snores. _Do demons need sleep? Why would a demon snore? He looks so... human. How can a monster like him seem so human?_

            The thought of running left your mind almost as quickly as it appeared. You probably couldn't even reach the door without him knowing. With how broken and battered your body is, you would probably fall the moment you tried to stand anyway. No way could you actually _run. Where would you go anyway?_ you thought to yourself. _Even if you could escape, how far would you get before the demon caught you. What would be the punishment for that?_

_No,_ you thought, feeling empty and defeated.

The tears started again.

_My life is in his hands, and I'm totally helpless. When he's done with me, he'll kill me, and that'll be the end of it. Perhaps it would be better if that happened sooner rather than later._

_____________________________________________________________________

 

            Dean was gone when you awoke. For a long time you simply stayed in that spot. Moving hurt too bad, and maybe if you just didn't move you could pretend that you were somewhere else far away from this personal hell that was your life now. Almost a full day went by and Dean didn't return. Eventually your need to use the bathroom became unavoidable and you had to force yourself out of bed. It hurt. You gripped the bedpost as you carefully lifted yourself up to your feet, wincing against the pain that shot through your body. One step and your knees buckled beneath you, causing you to sink to the floor.

            After an uncomfortable crawl to the bathroom and relieving yourself, you looked in the mirror for the first time since before you met Dean. The sight was so alarming that it frightened you. You couldn't recognize yourself. There were cuts, many of which would become permanent scars on your body, bruises everywhere, and dried blood caked between your thighs. Abhorred by the image in the mirror, you yelled and slammed your fist into the glass.

"Fuck!" Instead of breaking the mirror, pain shot through your hand as the face in the mirror continued to stare back at you with repulsive contempt.

            Getting into the shower, you turned the water up as hot as you could handle and scrubbed yourself clean. The soap burned, but you didn't care. All that mattered was getting rid of that image you saw in the mirror. All that mattered was erasing the feel of his hands from your body and his warm breath against your neck. You sat, curled up on the floor of the shower, letting the water pour over you until the hot water had long since turned cold.


	11. The King of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week has gone by, and Crowley decides to pay the reader a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            A week had gone by since Dean had left you in that room. The door remained bolted from the outside, and nobody entered the room other than the two times you had been given food by one of Crowley's demons. Both times you'd tried to plead with them for freedom, for answers, but both times they simply set a bowl of something that resembled rice and chicken on the floor and then left, immediately bolting the door behind them. The last man who entered shot you a wickedly creepy smile before turning out the door, and that was the most acknowledgment you'd received from anyone else in the building that week.

            You never thought it was possible to lose weight so quickly, and trying to make the food last as long as possible was difficult when you felt so hungry. The last bowl that came was two days ago, and you had eaten the last bite yesterday. It felt like the demons were just hoping to starve you to death. _But then why do they bother to feed me at all?_ You didn't understand it, but then again, you didn't understand anything about _any_ of this.

            You spent most of your time sleeping, crying, hoping that the window or door would magically be unlocked when you tried it for the hundredth time, and sitting in the shower, where you would try again and again to simply scrub your reality away. Your body _was_ healing. Some of the bruises were gone, but others were still colored and sore to the touch. The cuts had all stopped bleeding and scabbed over. Walking was no longer a painful struggle, but that didn't erase the feeling of him inside of you; that feeling that haunted you with horrible nightmares each night. Sometimes it would be that night replaying over and over. Sometimes it would be Dean returning from wherever he went, his eyes black, and that blade in his hand. Other times it was the mangled body of your aunt, or the man in the bar whose eyes you couldn't escape. But they all had the same things in common; Dean, and blood.

            One night you were awoken abruptly from one of these dreams to an unfamiliar sound.

_Is someone whistling?_ You thought.

            Rolling over in the bed, you turned to see where the sound was coming from. Sitting on the table was a single candle in a holder that had not been there before. It was the only light illuminating the room. There was a figure seated in the chair next to it, and you had to squint to see who it was.

            "Hello sweetheart. Did I wake you?" Crowley said in a very chipper tone, seated casually in the chair with one leg crossed over the other and his elbow resting on the table. You had trouble making out his face clearly in the darkness but from his distinct British accent and the suit he was wearing, similar to the one you'd seen him in the last time you'd met, he was unmistakable.

            "W-what are you doing here?" You asked, sitting up and holding the covers up over your chest. You had never been given any new clothing so all you had on was the bra and underwear that Dean made you take off the night he violated you, and the leather collar he locked around your neck.

            "What am I doing in _my_ home you ask?" He said sarcastically, laughing slightly. "Well, you've been cooped up in this room for nearly a week, and I speculated that you must be going mad with boredom. Seeing as you've done nothing but lie around, take showers, and pine out the window all day. I gather from the unseemly amount of dust on that shelf that you haven't even bothered to pick up a book!" he said, gesturing towards the bookcase on the far wall near the unlit fireplace. "Anyway, I figure since you are a guest in my home, it would be quite rude to ignore you!" He said. "Besides I've been curious about Dean's little pet ever since he brought you here. I intend to find out what is so special about you."

"I-I...don't know what you mean." you stammered, scooting yourself off of the other side of the bed, still holding the blanket to your chest as you began to back away.  

            "Oh, I believe you do, darling." he said smiling. "Why should the Winchesters always get all the fun?" Crowley, without moving from his seat, used some strange power to yank the blanket from your hands and cast it aside. You tried to go after it but he held you firmly in place with his mind. Suddenly you felt your body being pulled towards him, and no matter how hard you fought, your body refused to obey you. Once you were right in from of him, you began to sink forcibly down onto your knees.

"What are you doing?!" You cried.

"I think it's time we had a bit of fun, don't you, love?" he replied with a slight smile as he uncrossed his legs and reached down to unbuckle his belt and free his erection from its cloth prison. "Now why don't you be a good little girl and open your mouth for me?"

You clenched your jaw, keeping your mouth closed as you tried uselessly to pull yourself away from the man in the chair in front of you.

            "Now now, for how much interest Dean seemed to take in you as his little play thing, he sure didn't train you very well, did he?" Crowley said as he waved his hand lazily, forcing your mouth to open and your head to come forward towards his member. "Oh well, call me unimpressed, but that doesn't mean we have to spoil the fun."

_No no no, what is this? What's happening?!_ you thought while Crowley's powers forced your head between his legs as he used his other hand to guide himself into your open mouth. You wanted to bite down, but you couldn't control a single muscle. You couldn't even gag as his length pushed against the back of your throat. Crowley just sat there leisurely as your head bobbed forcibly back and forth along his shaft.

            "That's it, deary." he said as he watched you unwillingly suck him off. You moaned against his length as you moved, your yelling muffled by him filling your mouth. After a short time, you began to feel him pulse as he started to come. Unable to pull your mouth away, you were forced to take all of it into your mouth. Once he'd finished, he released his hold on you and you immediately gagged, bringing your hand to your mouth, trying to spit his juices out.     

            Scrambling to your feet, you turned to run to the bathroom, but you were stopped in your tracks again by an invisible force. With a simple wave of his hand, your body was thrown into the bed. You were forced to land face down on the mattress, bent over, with your feet still on the ground. You tried to move but your body wouldn't listen. He stood up, removing his jacket before folding it and carefully laying it across the chair. He began walking over to you.

"Don't do this! Please! You-" You screamed, but suddenly your mouth clamped shut and you couldn't make a sound, no matter how hard you tried.

            "My dear, do you know how much begging I have to listen to on a regular basis? It really does become quite dull and tiresome after a time." He said, moving until he was standing right behind you and you could barely see him out of the corner of your eye. He reached forwards and grabbed onto the hem of your underwear, gently pulling them down to your feet.

_No no no, not again!_ you thought, desperately trying to move, to scream, anything, but you were held there by the invisible force, completely helpless.

You heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor behind you.

  _Please! Somebody help me! Please please!_ you prayed, silently screaming inside your mind.

            Suddenly, you felt the head of his hard length rubbing against your behind. You felt tears begin running town your face, and all you could do was try and blink them away as your vision began to blur. His hands touched your upper back and slowly slid down, caressing your skin all the way down to your thighs,  before spreading them apart easily. One hand on his length and one hand on your hips he guided himself to your entrance. "You really are beautiful, my dear." he said softly before beginning to ease himself inside of you. You were dry, so he had to pump in and out slowly working up enough wetness to fit his entire length inside of you.

            It wasn't nearly as painful as when Dean had done it, and you were unable to tense up your body so the process went much more smoothly, though you still felt the uncomfortable stretch as he filled you up. "There we go darling" he said, beginning to slowly move himself in and out of you. You wanted nothing more than to scream, to kick and fight, to bury your face in the blanket and cry, but you were entirely helpless as he began to slightly pick up the pace. Both of his hands were gripping your hips now, directly over the bruises Dean had left there.

            Crowley began to grunt and moan with need as he slowly pumped into you. His fingers began to dig into your skin painfully, his nails cutting into your flesh. "Mmm, yes" he moaned, thrusting into you. His hips bucked and he gripped you even harder as he drew close to release. If you had your voice, you would be crying out in pain, but all you could do was lie there and wait for it to be over. Just as he was about to burst, he jerked himself out of you and let his cum rope out across your back.

            He wiped his length against your behind, cleaning himself off, and then began to pull up his pants. His movements were so casual, it was as if he had simply finished eating a meal. "You did a wonderful job, little dove. I truly hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. You are quite lovely if I must say." he said, walking back over to the chair and picking up his jacket. You were still pinned to the bed, unable to move or speak. "I deeply apologize, Y/N, but I have important matters to attend to, and I must be going. Shall we continue our fun another time then?" He said, not waiting for an answer as he put his jacket on and strolled out of the room.

            It wasn't until the door was closed and locked that you were released from your hold. Your legs weakly gave out beneath you as you let yourself sink to the floor. You could feel Crowley's cum sliding down your back as you sat there on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. Now that you were able to scream, you couldn't bring yourself to make a sound as the tears streamed down your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you thought!


	12. Hard Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean returns, and he isn't happy. The reader has a decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            The door was flung open as Dean barged into the room. You were sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed in a white bathrobe, scooping rice out of the bowl of food you'd received this morning with your fingers. The sound startled you, but it was nothing compared to the fear you felt when you saw Dean's eyes. They were black, and filled with a savage rage. You stiffened at the sight of him, too terrified to move. The scent of whiskey was so potent, that you could smell it from the moment he entered the room. He looked down across the floor and locked eyes with you and you quickly shifted your own down to the bowl of rice that was held in your trembling hands.

            The demon approached and his black boots came into view as he stood towering over you. He bent down until he was almost at your level, and you could feel him staring at you intently as your own eyes focused hard on a single grain of rice in your bowl.

_I won't upset him,_ you thought. _I won't fight him. I won't provoke him. I'll do whatever he wants and then he won't hurt me, right? Please don't let him hurt me... Please..._

            Dean reached out and took the bowl from your hands before standing again. Still keeping your eyes down, you saw him shift his weight slightly and heard the glass bowl explode against the wall to your right, causing you to throw your hands up to hide your face from the loud noise. His boot slammed into your outer thigh and you let out a squeaky cry, turning your body against the foot of the bed to avoid another kick. It came anyway, this time ramming painfully into your side.

            "I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry!" You cried, curling into the fetal position, not knowing what you were apologizing for, but desperately wanting him to stop hurting you. He kicked you a third time, knocking the breath from your lungs, and you whimpered pathetically as you tried to crawl away from him, away from the pain.

"You like to let other guys _fuck_ you?" he spat as he continued coming towards you as you tried to crawl away and cover your body from another bruising kick. Dean grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you up far enough to punch you, causing blood to start leaking from your now cracked lip.

Shaking your head, trying to find your voice, "No, nononoo! Stop!" you cried, not understanding what was happening.

"No?" he said in an angrily mocking tone. "So you're saying Crowley didn't come in here and fuck you while I was gone? Is that what you're saying?" He paced slowly around you as you tried to shield yourself from whatever part he'd planned on hitting next.

"No! N-no, I... He...He..." You blubbered through sobs, not wanting to have to say the words out loud, and terrified of making Dean angrier with any answer you gave.

Dean stopped walking and sighed. "Maybe I _should_ just kill you. I'm tired of your pathetic whining anyway." he said, pulling his bone knife that he's used on you before out from the back of his jeans. Closing your eyes, you held your breath and waited for his next move, knowing that whatever it was, there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it.

"Stand up." he ordered.

_He's going to kill me. I'm going to die...._

Shakily and slowly, you began to push yourself up off of the floor.

            "Hurry up" he growled impatiently as you rose to your feet. "Take off the robe." he said and you immediately complied, shivering as the cold air hit your skin and the robe dropped to the floor at your feet. You brought your hands up to cover your exposed body as you stood there, cowering your head to the side, only peeking at him once before returning your gaze to the floor. His eyes were still black. His face was still full of boiling rage. The arm that held the knife was flexing with frustration.

            Dean's pressed his palm against the center of your chest and pushed you back until your back met the wall.

            "Put your hands down" he said, as he lifted the blade to threateningly to your sternum. Hesitantly, you lowered your hands to your sides and looked up at him. There was no lust in his eyes right now, only a dark anger. Dean pressed the blade against your skin below your right breast and you moved your mouth to plead with him but no sound came. Too scared to even speak, you guessed he could probably _smell_ the fear coming off of you at this point.

            "Don't fucking move." he said coldly, focusing hard on the spot his blade was touching. Then the sting came. He dragged the knife against your skin, just like he had before in the dungeon, only slower and more carefully. It hurt and you pressed yourself hard against the wall, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to fight the pain. It was hard not to scream, but you managed to hold them back, only letting out small pitiful cries. You could feel the blood begin dripping down your stomach. His blade kept moving in the same area in a purposeful fashion. Every moment the blade lifted from your skin, it returned, shifting over small amounts continuously as he worked.

            Finally, he removed the blade and stepped back from you to admire his work. Wearily, you opened your eyes and looked down with teary vision to see what he had done.

 

_SLUT_

That was the word scrawled across your front, just under your breasts. It wasn't extremely deep, but it would probably scar. You would probably have it there for the rest of your life.

_No._

            Dean moved in closer to you again, resting the bloody blade uncomfortably against your collar bone. "I'm going to give you a choice, sweetheart. Just this once." He said, tilting his head to the side as he leaned his face close to yours and you could feel his whiskey saturated breath on your cheek. "I can send you downstairs. Let that son of a bitch Crowley and all of his demon lackeys have you, to do with what they want. Now I'm gonna be honest baby, I don't know if they'll kill you or keep you as a pet, but I can guarantee they'll have their fun with you either way. And I promise it won't be as pleasant as it is with me."

_How can something be less pleasant than being with Dean?_ was your first thought. _I just want to go home... I just want to feel safe again._

            "Option two, I kill you. I can make it swift and painless if you want. Just like turning off a light. It'll all be over." he added as he leaned closer to your ear, almost whispering the last part. The blade pressed a little harder onto your skin as his fist clenched it tighter, like it was hard to resist how much he wanted to pick that option for you. The thought of being tortured mercilessly every day should be enough to make the second option sound like freedom. But dying scared you. _Turning off a light,_ he'd said. You weren't ready for that. You didn't want to die. You didn't want to hurt either. _Why, God? Why are you doing this to me? Why do you hate me this much?_

            "Option three," he leaned back to look you deep in your eyes, his demon eyes no longer showing. "Option three, you stop slutting around. You'll serve and obey me." He said with a sneer. "Until I decide to kill you or get rid of you. Who knows... Maybe one day I'll let you go home or wherever it is you wanna spend your pathetic life... Or maybe I won't."

_That sounds just lovely,_ you thought sarcastically. _What does he mean slutting around? I was virgin until he fucking took that from me! And Crowley took what he wanted too. I didn't ask for any of this! I would never ask for any of this!_

            "Now." he said, his green eyes blazing into your E/C ones, knife still pressing against you. "Decide".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be out very soon! Please let me know what you think! ^_^ <3


	13. Hellfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader makes her choice, and Dean is... not a very nice guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            "I-...I-.." You said softly, staring into those callous green eyes, your whole body tense as you pressed into the wall, trying to shrink away from the sting of the blade against your collarbone.

_If I choose the first option, would he really give me to them? Would he just get mad and kill me anyway? Demons.... with an "s"... If there was something worse than where you are now, that would be it. This isn't even a choice is it? I'm going to be tortured and killed, period. He... He isn't going to let me go._

_I could fight. No. I could beg. Maybe he'll feel sorry for me and- no that's never going to happen. I should take the second option. He said it would be quick. Tortured and killed vs. instant death? That seems like an obvious decision...but... I'm scared. I'm scared and I don't want to die!_

            "Answer me, sweetheart or I'll choose for you." he said impatiently, his knuckles turning white from his death grip on the blade.

"I-... P-please-"

"Uh-uh." He cut you off warningly.

"Um... I.... Y-you.." You said in barely even a whisper.

"What's that, I didn't hear you?" He growled, putting even more pressure on the blade, causing you to wince.

"O-o-option three." you said meekly. Shifting your gaze away from his intense stare, you braced yourself for whatever pain was about to come.

            Dean removed the  knife from your skin, and tucked it away in the back of his jeans. With a new determination in his eyes, he turned and walked towards the fireplace, leaving you to sink down onto the floor, hugging yourself tightly.

            After a few minutes you heard the crackling of fire. _Who would light a fireplace in the middle of summer?_ you thought, mildly confused but certainly not suicidal enough to say anything.

            "Hey." you heard the gravelly voice say from across the room. "Get up and come here." he ordered. When you rose to your feet, you saw Dean, with his back to you, sitting in a wooden chair he had dragged in front of the fireplace. His flannel shirt was draped lazily over the back. You tiptoed fearfully towards him. Stopping a few feet away from him, you eyed the back of his head apprehensively.

            "Go and face the wall." He said, ever so vaguely gesturing with his head to the wall next to the fireplace. The shattered glass from bowl he had thrown was scattered all over the floor where he had indicated you were to stand.

"What are you-"

            " _Now_." he interrupted, and you made your way over to the wall, carefully avoiding the shards of glass littering the floor. You felt a very slight sting in your right foot as you realized you  hadn't managed to avoid every tiny piece. It wasn't a truly painful feeling but it was noticeable. As you reached the wall, you turned your head to see Dean and a look of horror spread across your face. Dean was seated in the chair, holding what appeared to be a steel fireplace poker in his hand. The tip was bright orange from being in the fire, and he was assessing it carefully as he spun it slowly in front of him. He caught you staring and shot you an sadistic smile before placing it so that the end was back in the fire.

_He's just fucking with me right? Just trying to freak me out. He wouldn't actually touch me with that... would he?_

_I should run. He's in here so the door isn't locked from the outside. I... I can run away. If I run fast enough I can find an exit, and then I'll just keep going. I'll never stop, and he won't catch me._

            You took a small hesitant step to the side, and at the same moment, Dean stood from the chair. The movement startled you as you shifted your weight and your foot dragged into a couple of small shards of glass on the floor, and this time the pain was more significant. As you tried to lift your foot to pick away the glass, Dean walked up behind you and grabbed both of your wrists in each hand. He slammed your hands flat against the wall in front of you.

"Keep your hands right there." he breathed into your ear. " _Don't_ move." he said before releasing his grip on you and moving away.

            Your foot stung from the glass that you could still feel was digging into the bottom of your foot, but you didn't dare move your hands. Dean returned a moment later and reached his hand around to your mouth, shoving some balled up fabric into it. You realized it was your underwear, but you didn't fight against him. Dean moved back over to the fireplace and pulled out the, now red hot, steel rod.

 _Run._ you thought.

            Every fiber of your being wanted to run away as fast as you could. But as you stared, petrified, at the steel poker, you couldn't help but imagine what he would do with you if you did and got caught. Before you could make a decision, Dean was already approaching you, steel rod in hand.  If you did run, you would have to move past him...

            Letting the balled up underwear fall out of your mouth, you pleaded. "D-dean, please. Please don't. Please no, please." You said, your voice shrill and filled with hysteria. "Whatever you want. I'll do anything, anything you want. _Anything._ Please, dear god!" You didn't move, but you felt yourself pressing into your hands, trying to shrink away from the approaching nightmare as you began to shake violently. He came up directly behind you and leaned down to the floor. He had picked up the underwear with his free hand. Again shoving it into your mouth, he said coldly "You'll want this here. Trust me".

            Before you could react, you felt the agonizing searing of hot metal against your shoulder blade. You bit down hard and let out a bloodcurdling scream, the gag in your mouth barely muffling the sound at all. Everyone in or near the building could hear your screams, there was no doubt about that. Even after the steel left your skin, you could still feel the scorching pain as if it hadn't. As your harrowing screams continued, you felt the excruciating heat touch you again. Your knees began to give out, but Dean shoved his own knee into your back, holding you in upright against the wall. The burning metal touched your skin six or seven times before it finally ceased. Still shrieking and holding the wall for dear life, you felt as if your skin was on fire. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air. This was by far the worst pain you had ever felt in your entire life.

            Dean grabbed your hair by the roots and pulled your head back, the outer edges of his eyes crinkling with a smile as he looked at your tear streaked face. He leaned down and began placing soft kisses down your neck. Releasing you, he went over and picked up the long forgotten leash that was still lying on the floor and returned, clasping it to the collar around your neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'll have the new chapter up soon! Please let me know what you think so far! <3


	14. On The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes the Reader away from Crowley's lair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            The place on your shoulder blade where you had been burned multiple times flared with constant pain as Dean lead you down the stairs and through the halls by the leash. It felt like your skin was being constantly melted and torn away at the same time. You descended one more set of stairs before Dean pulled open a door and forced you through to the outside. The evening air was warm and somewhat humid. Looking around, you saw nothing but trees and a single dirt road. There were no houses nearby, nobody to see you being dragged around naked on a leash.  The outside of the building itself was old and decrepit looking. There was graffiti on the walls, and the surrounding foliage had begun to take over. Looking up, you saw words inscribed above the entrance way that read "Needham Asylum". The place must have been abandoned for years.

            Dean lead you out across the gravel, which stung your already bleeding feet, to a strange black car. It was an old Chevy Impala. The sides of the car were covered in dirt like it hadn't been very well taken care of recently. He opened the passenger door and pushed you inside before slamming it, walking around, and getting in the driver's seat.

"W-where are we going?" you asked quietly.

            "Somewhere else." he responded roughly as he started the engine. He hesitated for a moment and looked you up and down before removing his flannel shirt and tossing it in your lap. "Put it on." he said as he started to drive away from the old asylum you'd been living as a captive in for the last week and a half. The asylum where the man named Crowley lived, as well as dozens of other demons. You pulled on the shirt and began to button up the buttons, gritting your teeth against the sting as the cloth lightly brushed against you burns. You felt extremely uncomfortable having the demon's clothing hugging your body, but it was a hell of a lot better than being naked and exposed.

            After a couple of minutes of silence and picking the tiny pieces of glass out of the bottom of your foot, you worked up the courage to speak.

"What are you going to do with me?" you asked.

Dean just looked over at you and smiled before turning the knob on the radio causing the song "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner, to loudly replace the silence.

            The thought of opening the car door and jumping out crossed your mind for only an instant before it was replaced with the image of you dead on the road, or seriously injured as Dean approached you with malicious intent. _Yep, that's not going to work out._ you thought as you pulled you knees up to your chest and sunk down against the seat, trying to get comfortable while avoiding putting pressure on your burnt skin.

            It was dark out when Dean pulled into a gas station in a small town, you had no idea where. Again the thought of running crossed your mind. But even though the gas pumps were working, the store itself was closed and there was no one inside. It was the middle of the night and there was nobody around to run to for help before the demon could catch you. He must have known that too because he didn't seem at all concerned as he left you alone in the car while he pumped the gas.

            The drive seemed to go on forever until, no matter how scared you were to sleep, you couldn't hold your eyes open any longer. When you woke up, you were no longer in the Impala, and for a moment, you hadn't a clue where you were. The small spark of hope that the whole thing was just a terribly fucked up dream and you were lying at home in your bed faded as you looked up at the ceiling. It was white and had a popcorn texture.

_This isn't my ceiling,_ you thought for the second time since the night this all started.

            Deciding that you'd rather hide from this reality for as long as possible, you closed your eyes and tried to pretend that everything was ok. _If I'm sleeping, I'm safe,_ you thought, knowing how false that was and that this moment you had was only a temporary luxury.

"Mornin' sweetheart." you heard Dean say.

_I'm not here. I'm not here. Please just make it go away._ you thought as you ignored his words, keeping your eyes closed and hoping that he would just think you were still sleeping and leave you alone.

"Well, I guess you're not hungry then." he said.

_This is a trick._

Your stomach growled, and Dean laughed.

Opening your eyes you turned to see Dean sitting at a small table by the window. The room looked like a motel room. He raised his arm and tossed something at you causing you to flinch away from the movement.

            "Relax princess, I ain't touchin' ya." he said, as he lifted a beer bottle to his lips. You looked down at the granola bar next to you on the bed. Greedily reaching for it, you tore it open and bit it in half as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world. _This thing could be poisoned, or have razor blades in it for all I know,_ you thought, scolding yourself for not even bothering to question food that a _demon_ gave you. But you were so damn hungry it just didn't matter, and before you knew it, you had eaten the entire thing.

            "Alright" he said, tossing his empty beer bottle into the small trashcan behind him. He got up and walked over to you and you immediately panicked and tried to scramble away as far as the handcuff on your wrist would allow. He reached over to the bedside table and you expected he was reaching for a knife, to carve into you some more. But instead, he  simply picked up a rag that was lying there and began to tie it around your mouth as a gag. He pulled a key out of his pocket and quickly undid the handcuff just long enough to cuff your free hand to the bed as well so that both hands were bound.

            "You be good now you hear me?" He said as he ran his calloused hand down your thigh. "You know what happens when you're not, don't you darling?". He smiled at you confidently before removing his hand, turning and heading out the door.


	15. Try, Try Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader is left alone in the motel room while Dean is out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            Dean had been gone for about a half hour, and all you could do was stare at the door. _If this is a real motel, then there's people nearby who could help me. But what if Dean gets back first? What if he comes through the door right now? He could be here at any moment. I don't even know where he went._ The thoughts of Dean returning in the middle of you trying to escape had you frozen in place as you stared fearfully at the door, trying to find the courage to do _something._

_What if this is just like that house I was at before? What if there are more demons here? What would they do to me?_

            You tried to wiggle your hands out of the cuffs but they were way too tight around your wrists. Removing the gag was much harder than you thought it would be as well. He'd tied it extremely tight so that you couldn't push it away with your tongue.

_"You be good now you hear me? You know what happens when you're not."_ was the voice that kept playing in your head.

            The sound of teenagers yelling outside broke you out of your state of indecision. _Those are normal people,_ you thought.

_"You know what happens when you're not."_

_No. It doesn't matter. I didn't do anything when he branded me. My aunt didn't do anything to deserve what she got. He's going to hurt me just because he can, and sooner or later he'll decide to kill me._

_I have to get out of here. Or I'm dead._

            With a new feeling of resolve, you began to moan loudly through the gag. It wasn't loud enough for the teenagers outside to hear you. You made yourself as loud as the gag would allow but at most the only person who could probably hear you would have to be either standing right outside the door or in the room next to this one. _The room next to this one!_ You thought with a glimmer of hope and an idea. Praying that the room wasn't empty you continued your muffled screams, and began hitting your head against the headboard, trying to make as much noise as possible.

_Louder._ You decided. Then you swung your legs around to the nightstand and kicked at the drawers. You knocked the lamp off of the table, and even though it didn't break it still made a pretty big thud.

_If he comes in now,  I'm screwed._

The feeling of urgency inside you grew with each passing second. All you could do was pound and kick harder, keep screaming, and hope to God someone heard you.

Your prayers were answered with a knock on the door.

"Excuse me?" the voice came through the door. "There's been a complaint, can you come to the door?"

            You didn't stop, you thrashed and whined and did everything in your power to keep the man at the door. For another minute there was no sound, and you'd begun to think he'd really just walked off. Suddenly, you heard the sound of the door unlocking and froze in horror thinking that Dean was back. The man who entered was not Dean. The man froze when he saw you there, gagged and handcuffed to the bed, your feet on the nightstand, and nothing on except for a button up plaid shirt and a collar around your neck. He was an older man with glasses, in a white shirt and a dark grey jacket. There was a name tag pinned to his shirt that you couldn't quite make out. _He works here! A normal person!_ You thanked God silently as you tugged at the cuffs.

"What are you-" He said as he looked around the room, almost like he'd expected to see someone else in there and this was some weird kinky sex happening. When he didn't see anyone, he looked back at you, his eyes wide with shock.

"Oh...my God. Miss are you okay?" He said as he quickly ran over to you and untied the gag from your head.

"Please! Please help me! Get me out of here before he comes back! He's going to come back!"  you shrieked desperately.

The man grabbed the handcuffs and tried to pull at the bed-frame, but it wasn't going anywhere.

            "You, you just wait here ma'am. I'm going to call the police and find something to help get these off of you." the man said and as he backed away you realized with horror that it was too late. The man turned around only to come face to face with a monster. Dean's cold glare sent shivers through your spine as he stared down at the old man. Before another beat could pass, Dean took his bone knife and shoved it through his chest. You could hear a gurgling sound coming from the man as Dean pulled the bloody knife from his chest and watched him with a dark, uncaring expression as he crumpled to the floor. His lifeless eyes stared off at nothing.

_He's dead... He's really dead. He just killed a man, and I watched him die._

Dean looked up at you, there was blood covering his arm and some splattered on the front of his shirt. When he noticed the terror written all over your face, he smiled.

            Stepping over the body, he walked over to you and unlocked the handcuffs, pocketing them and then wrapping his hands around your waist. As if you weighed absolutely nothing, he casually threw you over his shoulder and carried you out the door before depositing you in the passenger seat of his car. Dean turned some rock music on and drove away with you beside him. The way he just killed a guy and didn't even blink terrified you more than anything. There was nothing to say as you sat there in shock. " _You know what happens"_ you heard again in your mind as you stared out the passenger window. You knew you were going to pay for not following Dean's orders. You just didn't know how. All you knew was that it wasn't going to be pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback, so please let me know what you think so far! <3


	16. A Little Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean decides to "take it easy" on the reader today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            Staring out the window, watching the trees go by, all you could think about was that man's eyes... Your aunts. You've never seen so much death before. _How can someone just... kill without feeling anything?_

            You were startled out of your thoughts by a hand on your thigh. Dean didn't take his eyes off the road as he kneaded your skin with his rough fingers. You looked down the hand in shock as you saw that it was still covered in blood. The blood was dry but that didn't make it any less disturbing. When you tried to move out of his hold, he simply grasped your leg tighter, not letting you pull away. There wasn't much room to move anyway, being in the front seat with him.

"Y-you _killed_ him.." Those were the first words out of your mouth since the motel room.

Dean's eyes shot to you for a moment before returning to the road, his hand never leaving your thigh.

"Yep". He said casually, eyes focused ahead.

You stared at him for a long moment before he said any more.

            "Hey, why was that guy in our room anyway?" He said with false curiosity. "I mean, because you didn't try to escape or anything. Especially since I was pretty clear before I left about you not doing anything stupid." He shot you an unreadable expression, as his bloodied hand started slowly sliding higher up your thigh. "You know," he continued "I bet that nice old man would be home right now relaxing and watching porn if you had just done what you were told. What do _you_ think?" This time his eyes crinkled as he smiled with amusement. The same crinkles that made you swoon the first time you'd met him. Before you knew what he was.

_He's saying it's your fault..._

_...Is it?_

_If I hadn't... He wouldn't have been there when Dean got back..._

_He wouldn't have died._

_That man might've had a wife and kids, and now he's dead because of you._

_No, he's dead because the monster groping you right now killed him._

_...But that doesn't change the fact that he wouldn't have died if I didn't do anything._

_It is my fault._

            You sharply jerked your leg away from the hand that was touching you. This time, Dean let go without a fight, the amused grin never leaving his face.

            No more than a few minutes had passed before you felt the car slowing to a stop. Dean pulled off and parked on the side of the road. It was the middle of the day, but there hadn't been any cars in sight for quite some time. There weren't any buildings nearby, and you didn't understand why you were pulling over next to a forest in the middle of nowhere.

Dean shut off the engine before turning to look at you.

"You know what. I'll give you a break." he said. "You're lucky I got laid today or I wouldn't be in such a good mood."

_That's what he was doing when he left you in the motel room?_ You gave him a questioning look, wondering what his idea of "giving you a break" meant.

Smiling as if he could read all of your thoughts, he leaned back in his seat and widened his legs.

"You blow me, and I'll forget that little mess you caused earlier."

_What?!_ You thought. _No way! No! I won't!_

            Your mind shifted to the still aching burn on your shoulder... The cuts and bruises covering your body... The word carved into your chest. _His hands on your skin. His fingers pumping mercilessly inside of you._ Shaking your head to stop the flow of images and feelings that made your skin crawl, you glanced up to see Dean smiling at you..

"Well sweetheart, what's in gonna be?" he said.

" _I_ -if I do.. Will you let me go?" You asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

Dean let out a laugh and shook his head. "Nope. But I promise I won't tie you to the back of my car and drive until there's nothing left of that pretty little face of yours".

Closing your eyes and biting down on your lip, you forced yourself to nod.

"Well I'm not waiting all night baby, come on." He said, staring at you expectantly.

            With a shaking hand, you reached out toward the growing bulge in his jeans. You forced yourself to keep moving as you grabbed the button and tried to maneuver it open, but you couldn't get it undone with just one hand so you had to scoot closer to him and use both. He had a strong scent of musk emanating from him. Once you undid his button, you slowly pulled down the zipper on his jeans. As soon as you were done, you hesitated for the next part. Dean didn't say a word. He simply watched you, waiting patiently with a condescending smile.

            This was humiliating, you thought. You're cheeks flushed red as you tugged his jeans down just enough to gain access to his boxers, Dean lifting up slightly to allow the fabric to be slid down. His erection was pushing hard against his boxers and you let your hand roam over the bulge, gripping him through the fabric as you pulled his length free through the hole of the boxers. It was huge and intimidating looking, and you swallowed hard, staring at it like it was going to jump up and bite you. Dean reached over and took your hand in his, encircling your fingers around the shaft and guiding your hand up and down along the length a few times before letting go, expecting you to continue. Your hand was barely even big enough to grasp it all the way around. You took advantage of this time, wondering how long you could stall before the next part as you slowly squeezed and dragged your fist up and down. He began to rock his hips up into your hand, and pre-cum was visible glistening on the tip.

            Dean's  bloodied hand came up to grasp your jaw and his thumb rubbed along your bottom lip.

            "You gotta use that mouth for me baby-girl." He said as he retracted his thumb and slid his hand back to the nape of your neck. Tears began to well in your eyes and you closed them as you continued to stroke him with your hand. Growing impatient, Dean's grip tightened on your neck and he began pushing your head down towards his lap, forcing you to grip his thigh for support. Pursing your lips inward, you trembled as your mouth made contact with the head of his penis, you felt his wet pre-cum rubbing off on your skin. A tear escaped your eye as you parted you lips around the warm head, and began easing his length into your mouth.

            Dean groaned at the feeling, leaning his head back against the headrest, as his fingers entwined in your hair. He pushed against the back of your head, forcing you to take him deeper into your mouth. "All the way bitch." he said, pushing you down harder as he began thrusting his hips upwards, causing you to gag and choke as you clung desperately to his jeans.

"Mmm just like that." he moaned deeply.

            After a while, you could feel him start to writhe beneath you as he neared release and you willingly quickened your pace, hoping to get it over with. When you felt him begin to jerk his hips, you tore your mouth off of him, trying to avoid tasting him again. He let you pull him out, but he held your head firmly as he gripped himself with his other hand, stroking until his cum roped out, getting all over your face and in your hair before he finally released you. You curled up against the passenger side door and buried your face in the sleeves of the over-sized shirt you were wearing.

            "You want to know what I put on the back of your shoulder there, sweetheart?" he said as he put himself away and zipped up his fly.

It was humiliating to be sitting there with cum drying in your hair and on your skin, but you couldn't help but look at him when he said that.

            Dean smiled and reached out to gently brush the side of your neck with his fingers. "I burned my initials right into your skin. That's right. I branded you like an animal." he crooned. "Just a little reminder of  who you belong to." His fingers glided along your exposed skin.

"Now don't think that makes you special or nothing. It's just that if I want to fuck you til you're raw and bloody, or if I want to carve up that pretty little body of yours and feed you to the birds, there's nothing in this world that you or anyone else can do to stop me."  He smiled smugly at your broken expression as he removed his hand from you, started the engine, and pulled back onto the road without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up soon! Tell me what you think!!!! <3 <3


	17. Ruin You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds a place to stop for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            It was late when Dean finally decided to stop driving. He parked the car behind a small log house a couple miles out of the town you'd last drove through. It looked like it must be someone's summer or hunting cabin that wasn't in use for most of the year. He picked the lock on the door and lead you by your leash inside. Closing the door behind him, he turned to you and looked you over, crinkling his nose in disgust. He unhooked your leash from your collar and tucked it away in his pocket.

            "Go get yourself cleaned up. I'll be right back." he said, going back out the door. But before he left he turned back and looked at you with black inky eyes. "Oh, and princess... You better be here when I get back or you're not going to like what happens next." he said, smiling to himself as he disappeared out the door. You heard the engine start and fade as he drove off. As soon as the sound of the car was long gone, you ran to the door, throwing it open as you went. But you stopped short as soon as your foot hit the grass.

"Go." you said to yourself. "Move."

But you didn't.

_If there was ever an opportune time to run... This would be it._

_Dean's gone. The door is open. I'm not tied up._

You looked out at the woods surrounding the cabin.

_I could just disappear and he would never find me. Not out there._

            But you couldn't help but feel uneasy about how willingly Dean left you like this. He had to know. Had to know that leaving you like this was stupid, and that you could run off easily into the woods. Maybe he thought you'd be too scared to try after everything you've been through. The way he smiled when he walked out the door made you shudder... _No, no._ _This is a trap. It has to be a trap._ The longer you stood there, the more the feeling of uneasiness grew in the pit of your stomach. Reluctantly turning your gaze away from the trees and back to the cottage, you, hating yourself for it, surrendered to your fear and went back inside.

            At least there was running water and electricity. _I really do look terrible._ you thought as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Ashamed by what you saw, you didn't think you could ever get used to seeing your reflection so covered in scars. Strands of your hair were stuck together by dried cum, and the word "slut" shown clearly across your sternum. Turning your body, you craned your neck in the mirror to finally look at the mark on your shoulder blade.

            It was a brand alright. " _DW"_ were the letters that he'd burned into your skin. If you ever did survive this, that would be a part of you forever, haunting you more than any of the other scars on your body, reminding you of the demon who ruined you.

            You sat in the shower, the warm water soothing your skin, and you eagerly washed until you were sure there was no evidence left of your experience in the impala. The only thing that got you out of the shower was the fear of Dean returning while you were sitting in there naked. Getting dried off, you put the flannel shirt back on, your only protection from being entirely exposed. It didn't take long for Dean to return. The sound of the impala pulling up to the cabin made your stomach sink and filled you with dread. _Your one chance to escape, and you threw it away. Because you were too scared to try. There's no going back now._

            Dean entered the cabin with the sound of rustling bags. Afraid to leave the bathroom, you stood there shaking, with your hand on the doorknob.

"Honey, I'm home!" Dean announced in a mocking tone. "You're not hidin' from me are ya?" he called out after a moment. "Cuz that would really hurt my feelings".

            Not really wanting to find out what would happen if you "hurt his feelings", you tensed and slowly forced yourself to open the door.

"Ah, there she is!" Dean said, smiling at you with those piercing green eyes. There was a brown fast food bag on the coffee table, as well as a six-pack of beer. "Did ya miss me?" He walked over and pulled a beer out of the case before collapsing back on the sofa, kicking his feet up on the table.

            Standing just outside of the bathroom door, you didn't bother answering that question. The smell of food hit you and your mouth started watering as you stared longingly at the brown bag next to Dean's feet.

"You just going to stand there all day, sweetheart?" he said before taking a long swig of his beer.

"W-w-what d-do you want?" you asked, afraid of what he expected of you.

He shot you an amused look and took another drink. "I want you to walk that little ass over here and sit down." he said, patting the seat next to him. "I brought you food, come on. Don't pretend you're not hungry".

You were hungry.

You were _starving._

            But you weren't sure if your hunger was strong enough to make you move any closer to him. Setting his beer on the table before grabbing another one, he spoke without looking back, "I said _sit_ _down_ ". His voice came out harsh and threatening, making you jump as your body immediately began moving towards the couch. Cautiously, you sat down, making sure to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, which, considering the small size of the sofa and the fact that he was sitting basically in the middle, was only a few inches.

            That intoxicating musk hit you again. Too bad it had such a terrible association. Dean reached into the bag and pulled out a burger, dropping it in your lap. He grabbed the remote on the table and switched on the TV before leaning back again and draping his arm over the back of the couch behind you. Dean was drinking his beer. You'd never seen him eat before, and wondered for a moment if he even needed to.

            It felt like your burger was gone before you'd even gotten to enjoy it. The TV was playing a show called _Dr. Sexy_ , and you found it a bit weird that a demon would be watching a hospital soap opera that was definitely geared towards women. As the show ended and he had just finished his fourth beer, he began lazily flipping through the channels. When he stopped, it took you a moment to notice what was happening on the television.

_Porn. He's actually watching porn.._

            Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the growing bulge between his legs and you shifted uncomfortably. Dean finished his last beer and his hand came down from behind the couch to touch you, squeezing gently on the back of your neck. It was pretty obvious where this was going.

"P-please." your voice came out in barely whisper.

            His eyes moved up your legs, glazed over with lust. "You're going to be saying that a lot tonight, sweetheart." he said, the smell of alcohol of his breath as he brought his other hand over to wrap around your thigh. As you tried to pull away, his grip tightened, fingers digging roughly into the skin of your neck and your inner thigh, causing you to whimper. His hands and shirt still had dried blood on them.  His fingers entwined themselves in your hair and tugged downward, forcing you to expose your neck, which he immediately began mauling with rough, wet, open mouthed kisses. Out of nowhere, he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck, and you cried out from the sudden pain.

            Dean's other hand quickly came up and tore open the shirt you were wearing before returning to your thigh. His hand moved up along your skin between your legs, and you tried uselessly to squeeze them shut against him. You were completely naked down there, with nothing to separate your center from his probing hand. His mouth roamed down your chest and enveloped your nipple, causing you to let out a small moan, not from pleasure necessarily, but form the sudden sensation. His lips formed into a smile over your skin as he licked and sucked and nibbled. Dean forced your legs apart just enough for his fingers to begin rubbing against your clit. He continued a circling motion over it with his thumb as he, without warning, roughly shoved two fingers inside of you. There was nothing sensual about anything he was doing. It was rough and greedy and forceful.

            "Please stop." you begged through tears, and in response his fingers began pumping even more swiftly into you, causing you to let out a steady flow of whimpers and moans as you struggled beneath him. Dean's mouth finally released your nipple and he smashed his face into yours, kissing you roughly. You could feel his tongue probing your bottom lip before forcing its way into your mouth. His fingers kept stretching you as he nibbled and sucked your lower lip.

            After a few moments, he roughly pulled his fingers out of you and broke the kiss before removing his own shirt. There was nowhere for you to go unless you climbed over the back of the couch. He undid his pants and freed his throbbing erection from his boxers.

"Dean, D-dean please!" you begged, and immediately pain lashed out across your face as Dean back-handed you, _hard._

            "How many times do I have to tell you? You don't get to say my name bitch." he growled as he forcibly spread your legs apart, lifting them up to his shoulders and shoved himself between them. His hands dug painfully into your thighs, and Dean's eyes were ravenous as he, without any extra warning, rammed himself deep inside of you to the hilt. You screamed and thrashed but it only spurred him on, enjoying every moment of your torment as he assaulted your body.  

"Once I'm finished here princess. I'm going to tear that ass of yours to shreds. What do you think about that, huh?" he grunted as he continuously slammed himself into you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, slut?" he continued. "Having me fill all of your holes. I could breed you like a bitch, and you'll just fucking take it."

"No, nonono please! Please!" You cried as he brutally plundered you.

"Damn, I love it when you scream. I can't wait to make you scream louder than you ever have before as you beg me not to break you."

He thrust into you a few more times before his pace slowed and you felt him throbbing inside of you as he came, filling you up with every last drop before pulling out.

Immediately, he grabbed you by the roots of your hair and yanked you forward with a yelp.

            "Clean it off for me, sweetheart" he said as he pressed his wet length against your lips. When you hesitated, he reached his other hand up and gripped your breast, squeezing harshly until you cried, your mouth opening enough for him to force his way inside. You could taste both of you on him, and he was already beginning to grow hard again as he fucked your mouth.

"Use your tongue, whore" he growled, and pushed himself deep into your throat, holding you there and gagging you until you had no choice but to comply.

            Once he was satisfied with your cleaning job, he released you head and grabbed you  painfully by the upper part of your arm and you knew there would be huge bruises where his fingers dug into your skin. Dean dragged you by your arm into the bedroom, and pulled off the remains of your shirt before throwing you onto the bed.

"Get on your hands and knees." he ordered gruffly.

"P-please don't, please don't make me" you sobbed. You were too late to see the belt in his hand as pain shot across your side.

"Do as I tell you or I'll make this a hell of a lot worse than it's already going to be." he said.

            Shakily, you pulled yourself up onto your knees and placed your hands on the bed in front of you, supporting your weight. Once you were in position, for a moment nothing happened. You didn't dare turn to look at him, wanting to shield your face from being hit with the belt. A loud crack sounded as the belt came down hard against your ass, and you wailed in pain.

"I want you to count for me, baby." he said in a gravelly tone. Again, he hit you in the same spot. Tears were streaming down your face.

"Count for me."  he repeated.

Whimpering through your sobs you tried to find your voice.

"O-o-o-one." you said.

_Crack_

"Please!" you screamed.

"Count." he said.

"T-t-two"

_Crack_

You screamed and cried from the pain, but you forced yourself to keep counting.

"T-three!"

"That's it, baby." he said.       

_Crack_

"F-four"

_Crack_

"Five"

_Crack_

"Six"

_Crack._

"S-s-seven!"

            He didn't stop until you'd counted to twenty, and you were a bawling mess. Throwing the belt down, he climbed up behind you on the bed. His hand wrapped around your hair and yanked your head back towards him. He brought his other hand around to your face and shoved two of his fingers into your mouth.

"Now baby I don't gotta do this part. I don't mind either way, but trust me, you won't like it if I fuck you dry." he said as you tried to reject his fingers.

            Realizing what he meant, you stopped fighting and allowed him to work his fingers around your mouth until they were nice and wet before he pulled them out.

"You might want to relax, sweetheart." he said in a gravelly tone and he gently began rubbing a finger along the rim of your ass.

"Please" you sobbed pathetically. "Please don't do this. Please don't. Please!"

            "That's it baby. Beg for me nice and good." he said as he slid a finger inside of you, making you wince. "Tight little ass you have here. I can't wait to ruin it." He pumped his finger inside of you for a moment before adding the second one. It hurt as he scissored his fingers, stretching your hole.

"Noo! No, please. It hurts. It hurts please stop. God please" you begged.

"God's not listening sweetheart. It's just you and me." he said as he worked his fingers around inside of you.

You yelped as he pulled his fingers out of you. There was a sound like that of a wrapper tearing behind you, followed by a cold wet liquid that had to be lube being rubbed against your hole.

"You ready for me baby?" he asked, lining himself up to your back entrance.

"No, no please! Anything but that, please! Please don't do this!"

"That's right. Keep begging sweetheart. I'm about to make you scream." he panted, pressing the head of his length against you.

Sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, you continued to beg and plead with the demon.

"Please, p-please don't. Please don't. Please-"

            He pushed inside just enough to bury the head and you tightened against him, crying and begging even louder as he began to stretch you painfully. He inched in slowly, pausing each time to allow your body to adjust to his size, but that didn't do anything to stop the horrible pain and you could feel tearing as he forced himself deeper. You thought that the pain would lessen the longer he was inside, but it just intensified as you tried to squeeze shut around him.

            "Damn baby you're tight." he grunted. "Feels so good". He forced himself deeper until he was buried fully inside your ass. He stayed there for only a moment before pulling almost all the way out. "Wanna hear you scream" he moaned, gripping your hips tightly before ramming all the way inside of you as hard as he could. And scream you did. The pain was immense and you felt like you were being torn apart. He pulled back and slammed in again as he began a grueling pace. Dean reveled in your screams as he pounded into you again and again relentlessly. He wrapped his fingers into your hair and tugged hard as he fucked you. You tried to shut down, to ignore the pain, but it was impossible, and you were definitely bleeding as he tore you.

            "Fuck" Dean moaned as he shoved your head down so that your face was buried in the mattress and your ass was in the air. He kept his hand there on your head, pressing down hard, making it more difficult to breathe as you continued your muffled wails. He kept up the unforgiving pace, as he thrust into you mercilessly, grunting and moaning in pleasure.

            After what felt like hours, he began to tense up, gripping you tighter and bucking into you erratically until he finally exploded, shooting his seed inside of your ass, completely filling you. When he'd finished, he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, collapsing beside your broken, trembling form.


	18. Route 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader continues traveling with Dean. Unwillingly of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            For the rest of the night you lay there trembling and silently sobbing. Dean was gone for a large portion of the next day. Your entire body hurt. You had large finger shaped bruises on your upper arm, your thighs, and your hips. Your lip was slightly swollen from when Dean had hit you, and your lower half was covered in welts and blood, both from the beating and the rape. Once during the day you tried to move, but your body felt so broken that you couldn't even support yourself and instead you just fell off of the bed and lay there in a heap on the floor.

            When Dean finally returned, it was late in the afternoon. You heard the front door slam shut and car keys hit the table. When the light from the hallway poured into the bedroom, you wanted to run away and hide but you couldn't. Instead you immediately began to cry and shake violently as you lay curled up on the floor, waiting for your next torture session to begin. _What more could he do that he hasn't already?_ Imagining him raping you again was too much. There's no way you could take it with how torn and sore you were. _That wouldn't stop him from doing it anyway. He'd fuck you until you were dead and then blame you for dying before dumping your body in the woods and going off to find his next victim. That's all you are. Some toy for him to play with until it breaks._

 After what felt like ages, the new pain that you were expecting still hadn't come. But wasn't until you heard the shower running that you knew for sure that Dean was no longer standing in the doorway watching you. The muffled sound of the television in the living room was the only thing you heard for the rest of the night until you finally slipped off into sleep.

            The next morning you were awoken by a boot to the ribs.

"Time to go princess." said Dean as he latched the leash onto your collar again.

"Get up." he ordered, tugging on the leash.

            When you didn't immediately comply, he tugged harder, choking you. But you couldn't. You tried, but standing up just wasn't an option.

            "I did ya that bad, huh?" he asked. After a few moments he sighed and decided to pick you up. He ignored your whimpers as he lifted you and carried you out to the car. The rest of the day was just Dean driving with his hand on your bruised thigh, and rock music blaring through the radio. You didn't fight, or beg, or ask questions. There was nothing to be said, nothing you could do. The next two nights he dumped you off in random motels before continuing on the next day. He would handcuff you to the headboard just like he did before, but unlike before, when Dean went out you didn't bother trying scream or bang on the walls in hopes that someone would hear you. You were completely defeated, completely broken. The most you could hope for was a cheeseburger or granola bar that he would sometimes bring home for you to eat so you didn't starve to death.

_How considerate of him._

            The first night, Dean left you alone for the most part, excluding the minor beating you got to your face for hesitating when he told you to open your mouth for him. He sat on the edge of the bed, drinking beer and watching television. He had you kneeling on the floor in between his legs, with your mouth on his member. He called you a good little whore and used his hand to shove your head down over and over until he came in your mouth.

            The second night was worse. Dean came stumbling back into the motel around 4:00am, very drunk and not in a good mood. He didn't bother turning on the light as he took off his clothes and climbed on top of you. When you began to cry and beg him to stop, he hit you across the face until you lay motionless. His hands groped your breasts with bruising force and his tongue invaded your mouth. You were still raw and sore from last time but that didn't stop him.

            He rolled over onto his back, pulling you on top of him so that you were straddling his hips. His hands grabbed your waist and he lifted you up, lowering you down onto his length before gripping each of your thighs roughly with his hands.

            "Ride me, bitch." he said in a drunken mumble as he stared at you with cold, angry eyes. The expression was enough to tell you that not listening would probably be the last thing you ever did. Placing a hand on his chest for support, you began to rock your hips very slowly. Every little movement hurt, but it was preferable to the brutal pace he set when he was the one on top. He let you continue at your slow pace for about 10 minutes, just watching you with that cold glare. Eventually he became impatient, and his growing lust took over.

            Dean's hands moved back up to your waist and he began to roughly bounce you up and down as he thrust up into you. It was impossible to keep the cries from escaping your lips, which as always, got him even more excited. Flipping you over onto your back, he didn't break rhythm as he began to pound fervently into you. He growled and his hand came up to your throat choking you as he went. Your hands flew up and clung to his hand for dear life.  After he finished inside of you, he released his grip from your throat before collapsing on top of you and falling asleep.

            When Dean wasn't torturing you, he was either driving with his gaze set on the road and loud music playing, out somewhere, or lounging in the bed watching tv and drinking. Often when he did leave, he would either come back smelling like a bar, or covered in blood on his hands or clothes.

_What kind of life does he have?_ you wondered while listening to the shower running. Dean was washing off blood from wherever he had been that night. _Does he just drink, kill people, and watch tv?_ He's a monster, but it didn't come off like the kind of motivated evil you'd imagined or read in books. It was almost depressing. His actions, minus the murders, gave off the appearance of a depressed, deadbeat, alcoholic with no real reason to keep living. It was almost... pathetic. More days went by and it was always the same pattern.

             If this were any other situation you might even feel bad for him. You didn't, not in the slightest. But it made you wonder a little bit what happened to him. _Was he born a demon? Is this what demons do?_ That was hard to believe. If that were true than any old abusive drunk with psychopathic tendencies could be a demon. None of it made sense. He didn't seem to have some grand, take over and destroy the world plan like you'd expected something that came from hell would. He didn't kill random families out for a stroll, or old women walking their poodles. But when he killed, it was the most cold and ruthless thing you'd ever seen, and the glint in his eye gave away his enjoyment in watching them die. It was terrifying. But it confused you. Sometimes he hated you, sometimes he lusted after you, sometimes he ignored you. But he always hurt you. And he always made sure to keep you alive. _Why?_

_What kind of sick background does this guy have? If he was ever human, what was he like? He seems incapable of caring, but the way he stares off sometimes made it seem like... I don't know... Like maybe it wasn't always that way?_

            One of the biggest thoughts that haunted you was the idea that demons and hell and evil all existed... But where was God? Where were his angels? Where was the force of good in the universe? Your prayers were always left unanswered, and Dean's actions always left unstopped. _If there's evil, shouldn't there be good too?_ But it didn't seem like that was true. You were entirely alone. No one was listening to your prayers or anyone else's. Monsters roamed the earth and nothing opposed them. Dark without light. _Why? What's the purpose of it all? Is there even a point to any of it?_ It didn't seem like there was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Any feedback is helpful! I hope you're enjoying it!   
> New chapter will be out soon! <3 <3


	19. You Shoud Have Killed Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a phone call, and uses the reader to make a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

                Two  and half weeks. That's how long you'd been a captive of the demon named Dean. It was dark and you were riding shotgun while he drove, leaving the previous town behind like always and going on to the next. Dean turned down the music and pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket.  This wasn't the first time you'd seen him stare at his phone with such a concentrated and unreadable expression on his face, but this _was_ the first time you'd ever seen him actually answer it.

"Heya Sam." Dean said, staring blankly ahead at the road.

"I thought I told you to let me go." he said. You weren't able to decipher the muffled words of the man on the other end of the line.

"Not gonna happen, Sam."

...

"That's just great but ah see, I'm just not interested."

...

                "Oh but I am, Sam. I'm having the time of my fucking life." he said smirking. He quickly shot you a sideways glance. "I don't have to deal with your goody moral whining. I'm not out getting myself almost killed every day. I like the new me. It's so much more...  _gratifying_ ". Dean slowed down and pulled the car over to the side of the empty road.

...

"Oh, and what makes you so sure? You don't know what I've done." he said, with a mocking smile on his face.

...

                "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." Dean taunted. "I have a little friend here who might disagree with you". He scooted towards you, smiling, and pulled his bone knife out, holding it to the side of your cheek. "What do you think, sweetheart? Am I a monster?" His eyes turned black and you trembled, trying to shrink away from the knife.

"Dean-..." You heard the voice speaking into Deans ear. He lowered it, pressing the speaker button before holding it towards you.

"You're going to have to speak up sweetheart." he said as he dug the blade into the side of your cheek, drawing blood and making you whimper loud enough for the caller to hear you.

"Dean, who is that? Dean, what are you doing?!" the concerned voice sounded clearly over the speaker.  Dean dragged the knife sharply down the side of  your face, all the way to your shoulder, and you screamed out as tears formed in your eyes.

"Dean, whatever you're doing, just stop!" said the voice.

"What do you think Sam?" Dean said, lowering the knife to rest on your upper thigh. "Should I slice and dice this pretty little thing into teeny tiny pieces? Cuz I think I'd like that".

"Dean, you don't have  to do this! You're not a monster, Dean. Let me help you. You don't want to hurt anyone!" said the voice.

"Oh but that's the thing. I _really_ do. In fact, I can't think of anything else I'd rather do right now".

"Please, please help me!" You burst out, hoping the voice could somehow rescue you from this nightmare once and for all. Dean drug the knife harshly down your thigh, and you screamed as he cut you deeply.

"Let her go, Dean! Just let her go! This isn't you!"

                Dean brought the bloody knife up close to his lips and breathed in the scent of blood. The scar on his arm was glowing red, and the look in his eyes was absolutely bloodthirsty. Terrified, your survival instincts took over and you shoved the passenger side door open.

_You ran._

                Your leg and face stung from the cuts. Your feet were being poked and scraped by the forest floor. Your bruised and battered body ached and screamed in protest. But you ignored it, pushing yourself harder, trying to go faster. The forest floor disappeared from under your feet and you flailed, trying to catch yourself as you stumbled into a creek.

                "Come on, princess! Where are ya?" you heard Dean's deep voice almost too close for comfort.

_Shit shit shit._

                The way in front  of you was blocked by a steep incline so you climbed out of the water and ran to your left. Branches scraped against your skin as you ran, and in your panic you couldn't tell if all of the noises you heard were from you or if Dean was close behind. All of the sudden, the wind was knocked out of you as something collided with your left side, and you tumbled to the ground.

                Dean was standing over you. His eyes wild with a primal fierceness, the blade still clutched tightly in his hand. On your hands and knees you crawled away, trying to scramble to your feet. Dean didn't advance on you as you stood there like a deer in headlights, prepared to run but too scared to make the next move. Dean tilted his head back slightly, licking his lips as his gaze bore into you. A sadistic smile spread across his face.

"Run." he dared.

And you did.

                You had no idea what direction you were running in, but it didn't matter. Even though you didn't see anything, you could practically feel Dean's breath on the back of your neck. Running out of breath and consumed by the feeling that he was only a hairs breath away, you forced yourself to look behind you. There was nothing. Stopping, you leaned against a tree and frantically looked around for any sign of your pursuer.

"Is the game over?" Dean's voice whispered in your ear. You spun around only to find him standing right in front of you. He didn't look like he even broke a sweat in the entire event.

"That's disappointing." he said. "Oh well, come on sweetheart". He grabbed you by the hair and dragged you along next to him while you screamed and cried.

                After a few minutes, you came back to the road where the impala sat waiting. It seemed much closer than it should have been considering how far you had run, but you'd changed directions so many times you couldn't really know for sure anyway. Dean threw you at the cement road next to his car before opening the driver's side door and reaching in to grab his forgotten cell phone.

"You still there Sammy?" he said, walking towards you again, laying the phone on the hood of the car as he moved.

"Dean-"

"You really think I'm worth saving?" Dean interrupted him in a harsh voice as he grabbed you up off the pavement and slammed his fist into the side of your jaw, causing you to fall right back down.

"Get up." Dean growled at you. When you tried to scoot away from him, he lifted you up by the arm, twisting it sharply until you heard a loud crack. Then he hit you again.

"I said get up." he barked.

Like a kicked puppy, trying not to upset it's master, you painfully dragged yourself up to your feet, raising a hand to protect yourself, and cradling your, probably broken, arm to your chest.

"Dean! You need to fucking stop. You need to think about what you're doing! This isn't you, Dean!" Sam shouted over the speaker of the phone. Dean grabbed you and bent you over the hood of his car.

"You really are a stupid son of a bitch, little brother." Dean responded. "And I'm going to show you just how wrong you are".

Dean took his blade and ran it all the way down your back from your shoulder to your waist, making you scream in agony.

"Dean! Dean stop!" shouted Sam.

Dean began tracing his blade all over your body, as if he was drawing little pictures into your skin. He moved slowly, making sure that he elicited as much noise out of you as he could so that his brother would hear.

 

"You know how easy it would be to just put this knife right through her heart?" He said as he pressed his lips to your back, tasting your blood with his tongue.

"Dean! Please, I'll leave you alone. I won't call you again. I won't come looking for you. Please just stop." came the voice on the phone.

                "Oh it's too late for that Sammy." Dean said. "Don't worry. I don't think I'll kill her. No, I want her to live. I want her to remember every agonizing moment as it haunts her dreams for the rest of her life. And you'll have to live with knowing that you couldn't stop me. Knowing the kind of monster that you let live." he continued, throwing the blade aside as he began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

There was no response from the voice on the phone.

                "You ready for me, bitch?" Dean growled at you, one hand on your back and the other lining himself up with your opening. You learned by now that begging doesn't make a difference. If anything, it encourages him. But you couldn't keep yourself from sobbing pathetically beneath him as you lay with your face pressed to the hood.

"Dean.." you heard the sound of a voice breaking over the phone.

"Don't worry Sam. This slut loves it! She just can't get enough, isn't that right sweetheart?" he said, and you could only whimper in response.

"Dean, you... Don't do this, Dean." Sam pleaded helplessly.

Dean slid his length inside of you and you clenched your mouth shut, trying your best to not give him the satisfaction of your cries.

"Ah fuck." he moaned. He began to fuck you roughly against the hood of the impala. When you didn't make the noises he wanted, he pulled your hair and reached around to pinch your breasts  until you did.

                "I know what'll make you scream baby." he said as he pulled out of you. Before you could figure out what he was talking about, you felt him push himself against your back entrance, no lube, nothing except whatever wetness he'd gathered from fucking you. You screamed so loud you thought there was no way that someone, somewhere, didn't hear you.  

"Ah, damn. You hear that Sammy?" Dean grunted as he mercilessly pounded into you. "Does this seem like something your beloved Dean would do?"

There was no response.

It didn't take him long at all before he came inside of your ass, moaning as he did.

                Dean fixed his jeans and buckled his belt before dragging you back to the passenger side of the car and pushing you in. He picked up the phone off the hood as he went to the other side, hanging up and putting it back in his pocket without another word.

                Dean drove for the rest of the night and the next day, and you sat huddled against the passenger door, crying, cradling your arm, and trying to ignore the pain that pulsed through your body. He didn't stop for anything except gas when it was needed. Wherever he was going, he was in a hurry to get there. It was unsettling, the way he simply stared at the road for hours and hours, steering wheel clutched tight. He didn't play any music. He didn't so much as look at you the entire time.

                You weren't sure how much time had passed, since Dean obviously didn't need to sleep if he didn't feel like it, but you did. Finally the car slowed to a stop and you peered out the window, expecting to see another crappy motel or abandoned house. Instead the only thing you saw was a concrete wall, with a stairwell leading down, underground, to a large metal door.

Dean sat there for a long moment, with his hands gripping the steering wheel, before he finally spoke.

"Get out." he said in a gravelly, yet unusually quiet tone.

Instead you did something that any logical person would think was beyond stupid.

You asked why.

Dean glanced over at you for a moment before getting out of the car. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door.

"Get out." he said, not making eye contact with you.

                Afraid of whatever he had planned for you in that scary looking bunker, you hesitantly got out of the car. You stared at him questioningly, waiting for your next order, but he just kept looking away past you. His face had softened in a way you'd never seen before. Instead of saying anything, he simply shut the door and headed back around to get back in the car.

"A-are you letting me go?" you asked.

                The almost pained look in his eyes vanished as if it had never been there to begin with. His eyes turned to meet yours with a cold and hateful glare as he stopped what he was doing and walked back over to you. He grabbed you by your injured arm, causing you to gasp from the pain, and dragged you over to the stairs leading down to the metal door. Dean threw you down the stairs, jerking your arm awkwardly before you tumbled down onto the concrete. Your shoulder caught one of the steps, and your head collided painfully with the hard ground, nearly knocking you unconscious. You were unable to move as you saw a blurry Dean slowly follow you down the stairs. He leaned down to murmur something in your ear.

"I have a message I need you to deliver, sweetheart. Can you do that?" he asked quietly. You felt cold metal on your uninjured wrist as he snapped the handcuff around it before attaching the other end to the stair railing. "Tell Sam, he should've killed me when he had the chance."

Dean stood back up, and unbuttoned the front of his jeans.

_No. He's not..._ You thought.

You felt the warm wetness as Dean relieved himself on you. After he finished, he turned and went back to the car. He drove away, leaving you there lying in front of the strange metal door, handcuffed and naked, in a puddle of blood and urine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a transition here! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out! I hope you enjoyed it. Please tell me your thoughts! The next one will be up soon! <3 <3


	20. A Friendly Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds the reader laying outside of the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            The concrete was cold and rough beneath your broken body. The mix of blood and urine on your skin didn't help as the cool night air chilled you to the bone.  This place that Dean had left you, it scared you. This wasn't a police station, or a hospital. _It's probably just another demon lair, filled with monsters who want to hurt you,_ you thought. But there was nothing you could do. Not only were you handcuffed to the stair railing, but your body was so hurt you didn't think you could move if you wanted to. Though in all honesty, you didn't want to. You just wanted to die and dissolve away into nothing.

 _I wish I couldn't feel a anything,_ you thought as you lay there shivering. Your eyes sore and red from crying but you weren't crying anymore. It was as if you cried so much, you simply ran out of tears. The sensations that pulsed through your arms, your legs, your face, your head, your lower regions, just started to feel like they only existed in the background. The pain felt so distant, yet constant, as if it was just a natural part of you that had always been there. It was a strange kind of numbness.

            This entire time, all you could think about was wanting to go home, wanting to be free. But now, lying here on the ground, your body ugly and damaged, your hopes and faith gone... What home would you go to? The empty building that housed your aunts rotting corpse? Would you go back to school and walk down that street, across from the bar where you met Dean, as if nothing happened? How would you explain the scars on your body that you couldn't hide with clothing, or if you ever found someone to love you, how would it feel to have him see the scars, the marks, the brand of the man who ruined you, the word "slut" carved into your chest? The idea of ever being with a man again in that way was almost enough to make you sick. Even without the physical reminders, could you ever feel okay again?

            You were ripped out of your downward spiraling thoughts by the sound of the large metal door squeaking open. Closing your eyes, you didn't want to see whatever came through that door. Maybe if you just didn't move, whatever, whoever, it was wouldn't even notice you, and you could just lay here until it all went away, everything.

It was never that simple.

            "Oh, god!" you heard the voice of a man that you didn't recognize. "Hey, hey!" the voice called out to you but you kept your eyes clenched shut, wishing everything away. Feeling someone press their fingers to the side of your neck, you flinched away from the touch. As if your tears had been replenished, a new stream of them came flowing down your face.

"Hey, it's alright. Y-you're going to be okay". Big arms wrapped around your body and you began to whimper and twist away from the touch.

"It's ok, it's ok," the voice continued. It was oddly comforting, but deep down you knew it was just a game they liked to play before they hurt you, and you began to tremble as you cried. After a moment, you felt something wiggling the handcuffs on your wrist before the cold metal was suddenly removed from your skin. The big arms swept you up off the floor and you cried out loudly as your broken arm was jerked uncomfortably in the process.

"Shh, hey I'm not going to hurt you alright? Just hang on. It's going to be okay." said the man as he carried you inside the strange bunker.

            He set you down on a soft surface and you couldn't resist the desire to open your eyes any longer. It was a bed that he'd set you on, in a small room. But that wasn't what drew your attention. The man in front of you was huge. He had long brown hair, almost shoulder length, and a plaid shirt. You couldn't tell how tall he was but it was definitely way more than 6ft. As you took in the sight, and the mere size of him, you felt panic begin to fill you again.

"No, no, no, no, no, please, nononono!" you cried desperately, trying to cover up your naked body with your good arm and scoot yourself up the bed away from him at the same time.

            "Hey, hey" he said raising his hands in front of him and taking a few steps backward. "Listen. I am _not_ going to hurt you, ok? I promise." He started side stepping to his left and, keeping one hand raised, knelt down and picked up a small throw blanket off the floor. He began to slowly approach the bed and you scooted back fearfully.

"I'm just.. It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you. See?" he said in a comforting tone as he gently set the blanket down on the end of the bed and then immediately backed off again. "You don't have to be afraid".

            Warily, you stared at him for a few seconds, trying to assess the situation but none of it made any sense. You cautiously reached out to grab the blanket and pull it up over your exposed skin. His eyes looked so sincere and he genuinely seemed concerned about you, but after what you'd been through, his sheer size, and the fact that this was yet another strange place, made it hard for you to feel anything but uneasy suspicion.

He began to take a step towards you but stopped as soon as he saw you tense.

"I'm Sam Winchester" he said, gesturing towards himself, keeping the other hand raised to signal he meant no harm. "What's your name?" he asked gently.

_Sam?_

"S-sam? A-are you the one w-who..?" You trailed off, unable to finish that sentence.

He looked at you in confusion for a moment before it dawned on him.

"You, you were the girl on the phone." he said "D-dean he-" His eyes filled with sadness as he look at you with a mix of pity and guilt.

Biting your lip and looking down, you nodded ever so slightly, not knowing what to say or what to think of this strange man. Over the phone it was clear that he didn't approve of what Dean was doing, but that didn't necessarily make him trustworthy.

Averting his eyes from you, Sam whispered quietly, "I'm sorry... What he did to you..." he shook his head. "I'm _so_ sorry that he hurt you".

"Y/N" you said softly.

"What?" said Sam.

"M-my name... It's Y/N." you said.

"Alright Y/N-" Sam began but you cut him off.

"What are you?" you asked.

Sam stared at you for a moment, trying to figure out what you'd just asked him.

"Are you a demon, like Dean? Are you a monster? _What_ are you?" you asked.

"No, no I'm just a normal human. I promise. Just like you... Dean... Dean is my brother". he said,  his voice dropping to almost a low mumble at that last part. "I'm trying to get him back".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Tell me your thoughts!  
> New chapter soon!


	21. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam helps the reader tend to her injuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            "If he's your brother, then how are you human?" you asked skeptically, still waiting for the hammer to drop and everything to turn bad like you've become accustomed to.

"Dean, he... He wasn't always a demon. He had the Mark of Cain and when he died it brought him back and-" he stopped himself mid sentence. "It's a really long story, but Dean... The _real_ Dean. He's a _good_ person".

If you could remember how to laugh, you probably would have at that statement.

"He's a monster." you spat bitterly, immediately regretting your words as you looked at Sam, expecting him to get angry and hit you. But he didn't. He just gave you a sad look and sighed.

"Y/N, you're pretty badly hurt. We need to get you cleaned up and take a look at those wounds." he said, gesturing with his head at the cut on your thigh that was showing outside of the blanket.

"N-no, I uh.. I'm fine! Please." you said, suddenly terrified.

            "Hey hey, it's ok. I-I won't do anything I swear. We- uh, I mean you need to get clean so you don't get any infections alright?" As he said that, you noticed just how badly you smelled of urine, and how gross you must look. You nodded hesitantly, but didn't make a move.

"Alright, good." Sam said, smiling with relief. "Can you walk?" he asked.

            Your body felt like it didn't have any strength left in it at all. But you didn't want Sam to grab you, so you tried your best to shift over to the side of the bed. Cradling your broken arm, and keeping the blanket wrapped over you, you let your feet slip to the ground. As soon as you put pressure on your legs though, they gave out and you winced, falling back down onto the bed.

"Here, let me-"

            "No!" you yelled. "I-I'm sorry..." You knew you couldn't stand but you were terrified of the stranger and the last thing you wanted right now was to be touched, by anyone. You tried again to force yourself up and this time you managed to stand but as you did, pain shot through your lower half where Dean had brutalized you on the hood of the car, causing you to scream out in pain. The shock made you dizzy and you began to fall, but Sam caught you quickly and gently lifted you. Your body was tense but you didn't fight him as he carried you to the bathroom and sat you down carefully on top of the toilet seat before going over to the bathtub. He turned the knobs, testing the temperature of the water before sitting back and waiting with you.

"Y-you're n-not going to...to.." you began uncomfortably.

"No." Sam said firmly, not looking at you. But his face seemed to flush red. "I'll help you in and then I'll go and leave you alone."

            After a few minutes, the tub was filled and Sam went to lift you up again. He didn't make you remove the blanket that you had clutched protectively to yourself as he lowered you into the tub.

"If you need anything, I'll be right outside." he said, making it a point not to look anywhere below your eyes, and then turned and went out the door, closing it behind him.

            The warm water felt nice on your skin, but you knew the moment you added soap that it would burn, badly. Washing off as best you could with just the water, you waited until you had no choice but to use soap. You thought about not doing so at all, but the smell was strong and you wanted nothing more than to get rid of any evidence of Dean from your body. Wincing as the soap stung your cuts, you tried to move quickly, especially when you got to the most painful and sensitive areas. It was difficult to clean yourself when even sitting still hurt, and every time you even slightly jostled one arm, it flared with pain.

            When you were finally done, you reached down and pulled the drain on the tub, letting the water flow out. Afterwards, you turned the nozzle again and let the shower water pour over your body, washing away any residue from your bath. The blanket you had was lain on the floor outside of the tub and it was so soaked and dirty you knew you couldn't use it again without undoing a lot of the work you'd just done cleaning yourself.

"S-sam?" you called hesitantly.

The door cracked open and you immediately yelled "Don't look!" and the door stopped.

"P-please may I have a towel?" you asked, honestly surprised that Sam was actually being respectful of your boundaries.

            He opened the door the rest of the way, trying to keep his eyes glued to the ceiling as he awkwardly shuffled in and reached around blindly for the towel on the shelf near the door. He reached out to let you take it and then waited patiently for you to cover yourself up and let him know it was okay before he lifted you up again. He carried you back into the bedroom that you were in before and set you back down on the bed.

"I need to get the first aid kit alright? I'll be right back." he said before leaving you alone in the room.

            He returned with a bag in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. Pulling a chair over to the edge of the bed, he set the bag down and opened it, pulling out a knife, a needle, some bandages, and some thread. Squeezing the towel tightly against your body, your eyes widened and you began to shake your head.

"No, no no no. You said y-you said you wouldn't hurt me." you whimpered, panic rising in your stomach.

"Listen Y/N," Sam said. "You're hurt really bad, and I have to sew some of these wounds."

"No, no you don't. Just don't." you said, continuing to shake your head and lean away from him. "It's fine. I'm fine. Please just don't".

Sam sighed, but he gave you a sympathetic look. "A lot of these scars are going to be much worse if I don't stitch them up. And they're much more likely to get infected".

"No." You adamantly refused, trying to maneuver yourself to the other side of the bed away from him and his needle.

"Alright" Sam said, sighing again. "Just... I have to set that arm. And I'm going to need to see how bad some of the other injuries are". He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, not making eye contact with you. "You're going to have to let me look." He finished.

"No, no please" you begged as you realized what he meant by "look". You shifted your body away from him, wincing from the movement, clinging to your towel for dear life as tears began to well in your eyes again.

"Hey, it's ok. It's ok." he said in a soothing tone. "I told you I'm not going to hurt you". He thought for a moment and then continued. "We'll just start with the arm. Okay?"

There was _nothing_ comforting about the idea of him touching your broken arm, let alone resetting your bone.

"I...Will it hurt?" you asked.

"Yes." he said. "But only for a moment, I promise, and then it'll feel much better...It will only take a second and then it's over. You can trust me okay? I won't let anything bad happen to you".

            Instead of moving, you allowed him to move around the bed to where you were and offered you the bottle of whiskey to help dull the pain. You took the bottle from him and removed the lid.

_The smell._

It smelled like Dean.

You began to tremble uncontrollably.

_"I want you"_ you heard his voice in your head, and you swore you could feel that alcohol laced breathe on your neck.

"Whoa hey hey! Calm down!" you heard a voice distantly calling you.

_"I'm going to make you scream"_ Dean said darkly as his he ran his hands down your sides.

"Y/N!" You heard Sam's voice, suddenly much closer as you remembered where you were. He was shaking you. As you came out of your daze, you noticed that the bottle of alcohol was on the ground, shattered, and Sam was looking at you with worry in written all over his face.

"It's ok." he said. "Calm down. You're safe, I promise." comforted Sam.

After a few minutes, you began to relax again and he had you lay down and gave you something to bite down on. The setting of the bone was excruciating, but he was right that it was over quickly. Once he was done, he bandaged it tightly and made you a sling out of some cloth. He left the room for a minute to get you some water, but you were so exhausted that before he returned you fell into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please send me your feedback so I know what I'm doing right/wrong!  
> New chapter will be out soon! <3 <3


	22. Reprieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            When you woke up, you weren't sure where you were. And all you could think about was food. As you looked around the room, your memories flooded back to you. You had a sling around your arm and...

_What happened?_

            You had a button up shirt on, just like the one Dean had you wear, and some oversized pajama bottoms. There were bandages on your arms and legs where you'd been cut, and you could feel one on your back and a small one on your cheek. Shuffling to the edge of the bed, you tried to get up. It was a bit easier this time than before, but everything still hurt, and the more weight you put on your legs, the more painful it was. Holding onto the wall for support, you moved at an excruciatingly slow pace to the door. Once you got out into the hallway, you leaned against the wall and slid against it as you moved in order to take some of the weight off of your legs. After a few meters, your legs simply gave up on you and you slid to the ground against the wall.

            For a few minutes you sat there, slumped on the floor. You stared down at the plaid shirt you had on.

_"Clean it off for me, sweetheart" he said as he pressed his wet length against your lips. When you hesitated, he reached his other hand up and gripped your breast, squeezing harshly until you cried, your mouth opening enough for him to force his way inside. You could taste both of you on him, and he was already beginning to grow hard again as he fucked your mouth._

"Nonono!" You screamed, gripping and tearing at the sleeve of the shirt, trying to rip it off yourself, but all you managed was to pull apart some of the bandages underneath, and a few of them started bleeding again as you scratched at your arms.

            Sam rounded the corner and looked shocked to see you there.

"Y/N!" he said. "Are you okay? Why are you up?" he ran over to you and you involuntarily shrunk away from him. You were trembling again, but managed you regain some control over your emotions.

"W-what happened?" You asked quietly.

Sam knelt down next to you, making sure not to get too close and make you uncomfortable.

"You needed sleep Y/N. You were out for almost three days. How are you feeling?" he said.

"You..." you started, looking down at the clothes you were wearing.

_He touched me._

"You said you wouldn't look. I asked you not to..." you said, a look of betrayal in your eyes.

            It took Sam a moment to process what you meant. "I had to make sure you were okay. I didn't do anything to you okay? I just had to make sure you didn't need to go to the hospital. I-I promise, I didn't betray your trust Y/N".

_Yes you did,_ you thought bitterly, feeling violated yet again. A small part of you knew that he was just trying to help you, but you ignored it as you curled up against the wall, refusing to look at him.

            "I'm sorry Y/N" he said, and you could hear the guilt in his voice. "Hey um, you're probably starving. How about we get you something to eat?" he asked, offering his hand to help you up. As upset as you were, you desperately needed food. It was the only thing you could focus on. So you held your hand up to him and he slipped his arm around your waist, helping you to your feet. Sam lead you back into the room, practically carrying you as you wobbled down the hall. He brought you back to the bed and you sat down, wincing a little as you did. Sam left you there for a few minutes and returned with a bowl of hot soup and a glass of water.

            "Can I have a different shirt?" you asked after you'd finished eating. Sam gave you a strange confused look but said okay. He came back with a simple white t-shirt, which you took gratefully. He offered to help you out of the one you were wearing but you refused so he left the room so you could have some privacy.

            A little while later, Sam came back in to check on you.

"Sam." you said when he sat at the edge of the bed.

"What is it?" he said, a small smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

"H-he... He said he had a message for you." you said, looking up at him.

"Who? Dean?" he asked, and you nodded.

"He um...." you looked down at your fingers as you fiddled with the edge of your shirt. "He said you should have killed him".

Sam looked at you for a long time before speaking, changing the subject instead of responding.

"Hey um," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Do you have any family or anyone you can call? I'm sure they're worried sick".

Staring off at the far wall, you thought of your aunts corpse, torn to shreds. The blood splattered _everywhere._ Tears welled in your eyes and you blinked, trying to hold them back.

"No." you whispered as a traitorous tear escaped down your cheek.

            Sam didn't bring it up again, and after a few days your body began to start healing. You could probably walk again if you wanted to, but you couldn't bring yourself to get out of bed on your own. Sam tried to coax you out by asking you if you wanted to eat in the kitchen, or offering to show you the library, but to no avail. The bedroom was safe, and you didn't want to leave it. He continued to bring you food and water and he helped you when you needed to walk to the bathroom. Other than that you just lay in bed, staring at the wall, or listening to Sam's stories. You didn't talk much. Sam was a sweet guy though, and you'd begun to trust him over the course of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a short one! More stuff to come! I hope you liked it! <3


	23. Food for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader decides to explore the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            Sam came into your room early one morning. He had bags under his eyes and he looked like he hadn't slept all night. It wasn't completely uncommon as since you'd been here he always appeared like he was under a lot of stress and never got enough sleep, but this time he had a strange look in his eye, a sense of urgency.

"Listen, Y/N." he said, sitting on the end of the bed. "I think I may have found a lead on Dean".

"...Oh." was all you could say. Hearing his name said out loud was hard enough, and it was hard to see it the way Sam did. As far as you were concerned, Dean was just a monster; A monster that should be killed.

"So uh, I won't be back for a few days. Will you be alright here by yourself?" he asked.

Staying in this creepy underground place by yourself was a little been unnerving, but you nodded.

"A-are you going to... kill him?" you asked quietly.

Sam stared at you for a long moment.

"He's still my brother. I know he's in there and if I can help him... I've got to do whatever it takes to bring him back." he said.

"But if you can't... Then what?" you asked.

Sam swallowed hard and moved his gaze away from you. "I don't know." he whispered.

            Quickly, Sam stood up and walked over to the small dark wooden dresser in the corner of the room. He grabbed a piece of paper, pulled a pen out of his jacket, removing the cap with his teeth, and began to hastily scribble something. Sam walked over to you and handed you the piece of paper. It had two phone numbers on it.

"If you need anything, just call. If you don't hear from me and you're in trouble, call the second number. His name is Castiel. He can help you." Sam said before saying a quick goodbye and going out the door.

___________________________________________________________________

Dean came through the door of the bedroom. His eyes were inky black as he looked at you with a menacing grin. He had his bone blade in his hand.

"N-no. W-where is Sam?" you asked in a high pitched squeak.

"Sam?" Dean asked with an amused smile. "He's right here, sweetheart! Come on brother!" he called as he stepped to the side of the door.

Sam came around the corner and smiled sweetly at you.

"S-sam, please help me." you pleaded as you looked back and forth between them.

Dean let out a small laugh. "Yeah Sammy. She looks like she could use some help." He teased.

Both Sam and Dean strode forward, Dean going to one side of the bed and Sam to the other.

"S-sam, what's going on?" you asked, trembling, moving towards him and away from Dean.

Sam reached over and touched your face gently, and as you looked into his eyes, he blinked and they were the same black color as his brother's.

"I missed you, sweetheart." Dean said as they both closed in on you on the bed.

You screamed.

______________________________________________________________

            The room was empty as you shot up, looking around in a panic, your breathing heavy. Pressing your hand to your chest, you let out a sigh of relief as you realized that it was just a dream.

_Dean is gone, and Sam is human,_ you reminded yourself. _He's been nothing but good to me._

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up, you steeled yourself for your first attempt at walking entirely by yourself since Sam left. As you stood, you felt a bit achy but there was no pain. After you'd gone to the bathroom, you stopped in the hallway for a moment and glanced curiously down the hall. This is as much as you'd seen of the bunker since you'd been here.

            Deciding to explore a little, you walked down the hall which opened into a large room with a very long wooden table in the center. Shelves filled with books and a few strange looking knickknacks surrounded the walls on every side. There were books and paper strewn messily on the table. Walking over and looking at it, you saw that there were maps, police reports, news articles, and some strange historical texts that covered a wide array of paranormal and mythological sounding topics. Your stomach grumbled. Abandoning the notes on the table, you went through a large entryway to your left at the end of the library. You came to a hexagon shaped room with an old fashioned looking metal staircase leading up to a second floor. In the center of the room was a table that had a built in map, as well as large metal machines lining the walls that looked like some kind of old fashioned computer system.

_This is like the bat cave,_ you thought as you looked around in wonder.

_Food!_ you thought excitedly as you continued through another doorway and entered what was most definitely a kitchen. Quickly making your way over to the far wall that was lined with cabinets, you began foraging for something to eat. To your dismay, there wasn't a whole lot there. But you did find some macaroni and cheese, and that sounded absolutely heavenly. Pots and pans hung from a rack above an island counter top, and you eagerly grabbed one and filled it with water before setting it on the stove. Opening the fridge, you were a bit shocked by the smell. There were definitely some things that had gone bad inside that fridge. After a bit of digging, you managed to find some bacon that was still good, and threw it on a skillet on the stove.

           Once your food was finished, you brought it, and a glass of orange juice, back into the library you'd found originally and sat down at the table to eat. The food was delicious and you ate more than you normally would be able to. After practically starving for so long it was like heaven on earth, in the form of cheesy noodles and greasy bacony goodness. Once you were finally feeling full and satisfied you got up and started perusing the books on the shelves.

_Historical Accounts of Vampires_

_Wendigos, Jinns, and Shtrigas_

_Basic Hexbags and Charming Rituals_

_Summoning and Expelling Demons_

_This is... absolutely insane,_ you thought to yourself as you skimmed through one of the books that was filled with pictures of all kinds of different monsters and methods on how to kill them.

_These people are mad, what am I doing here?_ you thought, but you couldn't dismiss the fact that you had been _personally_ acquainted with more than one demon in the last month.

_This... This is all real?_

            All of those books made you uneasy. Talk of monsters and evil spirits, things that were apparently _real_ , and you were all alone in this creepy bunker. Deciding that that was enough reading for one day, and that you really wanted to be able to sleep again sometime in your life, you left the library and headed back down the hallway towards your room. There were a few other doors along that hall that you hadn't noticed before. Looking around carefully, as if someone were going to catch you snooping around, you slowly turned the knob on one of the doors and let it swing open.

            It was another bedroom. It was very clean and well kept, but also very bare. There were no decorations on the walls or photographs. But there was a nice television, which seemed oddly out of place in the building that seemed to be older than anyone you knew. _Maybe this is Sam's room?_ you thought. Deciding it would be rude to go through his stuff, you left and went immediately across the hall to another door. You had a strange feeling in your gut as you turned the knob. The moment the door was open, you realized why.

_Dean._

            You could never forget that smell and the entire room was filled with it. That musk that you found so intoxicating the first time you'd smelled it, and terrifying ever since. Slamming the door shut, you quickly rushed back to your room, closing and locking the door behind you and crawling back onto the bed.

_It's just a room,_ you told yourself. _He's not here._

_But Sam was out looking for him. What if he comes here?_ The thought terrified you and you had to take a few minutes to regain your composure and stop shaking, stop the images that flashed uninvited through your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I know a lot of people use italics for dream sequences but I wanted it to be unclear at first so I tried to make it work without. I hope that it didn't seem too weird. <3 New chapter will be out soon!


	24. Twisted Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader avoids Dean's room, afraid of what might be lurking in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            It had been a few days since Sam had left and you still found yourself avoiding Dean's room at all costs, and even staying on the opposite side of the hall when you had to walk past it. You'd spent a little bit of time reading, but the more you discovered about the things that lurked in the dark, the more uneasy you became, so you didn't delve too deep into those stories. The books about demons were particularly unnerving. They spoke of how souls in hell become corrupted and twisted. They spoke of black smoke and possessions, torture and violence.

            There were exorcisms written in Latin and other strange languages.  And as you read, all you could see was Dean's face and those inky black eyes. There wasn't much else to do around the bunker. You'd eaten them out of bacon, and you even spent a little time watching Netflix on Sam's television. Sometimes you picked up that piece of paper Sam gave you and stared at the numbers on it, thinking about whether or not you should call him, but you kept convincing yourself to wait.

            One thing that just kept haunting you was that room. As much as it terrified you, part of you wanted so badly to know what was inside. _What kind of man was he?_ Images of dungeons and torture chambers and motel rooms with chains on the bed flashed through your head. The curiosity pulled at you, but going in that room... That smell... Seeing things that he owned... It felt like it would be enough to bring him back; like if you went into that room, he would know. He would be waiting inside, ready to catch you. You would have to relive all of those memories again.

_Why am I even still here?_ you asked yourself. But you knew the answer. You'd been over it a hundred times in your head.

_I could run away, and go where?_

_The police? What are they going to do? They wouldn't believe me anyway._

_The hospital? They'll think I'm crazy and suicidal and lock me away somewhere._

_Home? I don't have a home. Dean took it away from me._

_Somewhere else? I don't have any money, anywhere to stay. My body is covered in scars that I can't explain._

            Truth is, as many reasons as you could come up with, in actuality you were just scared. If you went out there, you would have to face the world, face the monsters that you'd been reading about, face the fact that your only family was dead and that you were completely alone. You just didn't have the courage to walk out that door. But Dean's door... it was just down the hall. _Why is it so scary? He's not here. It's just a room. Maybe you can find answers... Answers to what?_ It didn't matter. You had to find out.

            Steeling yourself against your emotions, you marched over until you were standing in front of Dean's bedroom door and reached out, grabbing the doorknob. But as soon as you did, you froze.

_"You aren't hiding from me are ya?"_ you heard Dean's voice in your head as your hand rested on the knob _of the bathroom door._

            No. The _bedroom_ door. You weren't in that place. Dean wasn't waiting for you on the other side. _It's just an empty room,_ you reminded yourself. Slowly turning the knob, you pushed gently and let the door swing open. Although you almost truly expected Dean to be standing there waiting for you, he wasn't. Taking a step inside, you held your breath. Another step. Then another, until you reached a small desk on the left wall with an old typewriter on it and a lamp sitting beside that. After fidgeting over the base of the lamp for a moment, your fingers found the switch and a warm yellow light filled the small room.

            The first thing you noticed was that the room was nothing like Sam's. Sam's room had no decorations, no personalization besides the television. It resembled the look of a motel room that one had no intention of staying in for an extended period of time. Dean's was the opposite. And it wasn't quite the evil lair you were expecting. There was a shelf just above the head of the bed that was strewn with strange bags, and other items such as crucifixes and wooden stakes, and there were even a few books. A small fan sat off in the corner, facing towards the bed. Above that on the wall hung a large variety of weapons, from shotguns and handguns, to hatchets and machetes. The weapons didn't surprise you. He was a monster, and violence was his sport. Staring at a long blade on the wall, you remembered what it felt like to have him glide his blade across your skin.

            Shuddering and wrapping your arms protectively around yourself, you forced the memory away and focused on your surroundings. On the desk, you noticed there were a couple of photos carefully arranged near the lamp. One had four people in it. An older man, a woman holding a newborn infant, and a young boy who couldn't have been more than four years old. It was a sweet family photo. The two boys, you guessed, were Sam and Dean as children. Reaching out, you picked up the photo next to it. It was the woman and the older of the two boys from the other photo. She had her arm wrapped around him from behind protectively, and they were both smiling. She was beautiful, and he looked so happy, so innocent.

_How could this child turn into the demon I met?_ It was impossible for you to imagine that that was actually Dean as a kid. His happiness was pure and genuine. There was no evil in his smile. It wasn't the hungry gleam he got in his eyes when he killed. _Maybe this is someone else. Maybe he killed these people too._ _That doesn't make sense. He wouldn't keep photos like this._ The child was Dean. The older woman and man were his parents, and the baby was Sam. They were just a normal, happy family. _Just like what I had with my aunt before Dean killed her._ Your eyes hardened, but as you went to set the picture of the boy and his mom back down, you found yourself pocketing it instead.

            Walking over to the other side of the room, you saw an old vinyl player and some records sitting atop the tall dresser. It was all the same kind of music that he always played when he drove. You pulled open a drawer of the dresser and saw it lined with a wide array of plaid and flannel shirts.

_They sure love their flannel,_ you thought, slightly amused for a moment.

            Opening that drawer was a huge mistake. The musky scent of Dean that you had been trying to ignore grew stronger. Closing the drawer, you turned around and looked up at the weapons on the wall. The knives. The room suddenly felt like it was spinning. _Dean was making deep slow cuts along your back, as he held your close and whispered in your ear all the ways he wanted to hurt you._ Shutting your eyes against it only seemed to help the images grow more vivid. Tears filled your eyes and horrified whimpers escaped your lips as you hugged yourself tightly. The rough sound of his voice and breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine and your hands shot up to cover your ears. You were losing control, fast.

"No, no, no, no, no!" you shouted as you ran from the room, tears streaming down your face as your ran back to your own room and slammed the door before leaning your back against it, trying to keep the monsters out.

            "No, no, nonono" you kept repeating as you slid down the door until your were sitting against it, your hands still covering your ears and your eyes clenched shut. The images wouldn't stop so you started pounding at your head with your fists, trying to force them out, trying to make the feelings go away. There was nothing you could do to make it stop. It overwhelmed you completely until you were a sobbing mess on the floor, pleading to someone who wasn't even there.

From then on, you never set foot in Dean's room again. But you did hold onto the picture of the innocent boy and his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope your enjoyed! New chapter will be up soon!


	25. In the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam returns to the bunker, and he isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            It was late in the evening and you were sitting in Sam's room watching his television when you heard it. The sound of the metal door at the entrance to the bunker echoed as it was slammed shut.

_Sam!_

            Turning off the television, you leapt down off of the bed and ran out to meet Sam. He was gone so long you were starting to get worried that something happened. Sitting alone in this bunker with nothing but your thoughts and books about nightmare creatures was starting to get to you. As you rounded the corner, your heart stopped. The first thing you saw wasn't Sam. It was Dean. Your eyes widened as you stood staring in shock at the demon that tormented you. He was wearing his red flannel shirt that he had on the day you met him, and there was frustration showing in his face.

            It took you a moment before you noticed the handcuffs on his wrists and Sam walking behind him, escorting him through the bunker. Dean didn't seem to see you and immediately you leapt back around the corner and ducked back into Sam's room, your back pressed up against the wall beside the door frame. Your hands were trembling as you stood there with your eyes closed, not breathing at all. They turned the corner, walked right past Sam's room and continued down the hall. It wasn't until you heard another door close that you allowed yourself to shakily release the breath you'd been holding. Shyly peeking around the corner, you checked to make sure they had gone.

            _Strange,_ you thought as you peered out the door. You'd explored that end of the hall before, and there was nothing else down there except an old storage room. Stepping out and quickly scurrying down the hall to your own room, you closed and locked the door behind you. A few minutes later, a knock at the door made you jump.

"Y/N?" you heard Sam's voice on the other side of the door, and sighed with relief.

"Y/N, are you in there?" he said after you didn't respond.

Unlocking the door, you cracked it open just enough to peek through the crack and see Sam standing there looking absolutely drained.

"D-... He's here." you whispered, still reeling from the unexpected sight of Dean.

            "Yeah, he um... I'm going to make him better." Sam said more to himself than to you. "Listen, I have to go out and get a few things. Just stay in here alright?" Noticing the fear in your eyes, he finished, "He can't hurt you. I promise. I'll be right back, just, just stay here". Nodding, you shut the door and locked it again, not entirely convinced of Sam's words.

            You sat there for a while, on the floor near the door, just trying to hold yourself together. Dean being this close... It was unnerving to say the least. If he wanted to, you knew he could bust this door down and have you at his mercy again in an instant and there would be nothing you could do about it. Whatever Sam's plan is, if it doesn't work you could end up right back where you'd just escaped from. Pushing away the images in your mind, you made a decision.

_It's time to leave._

            It only took you a few minutes to pack, considering you didn't technically have any belongings of your own. Pulling a small bag out of one of the dresser drawers, you packed a couple of books about protecting yourself from demons which you had planned on reading, as well as the note with Sam and Castiel's phone numbers, just in case. Since you didn't have any clothes except the ones Sam had loaned you, you didn't have any to pack. Opening the door, you quietly tiptoed down the hall, past the library, and into the kitchen where you grabbed a few handfuls of snacks and shoved them into your bag. After you'd finished, you tried to think of anything else you might need. Money for one, but you were out of luck there.

            As you headed out of the kitchen, you decided to walk back to the hallway. Stopping momentarily in front of Dean's bedroom door, you steeled yourself and pressed inside, quickly rushing over and grabbing a knife from off of the far wall. Leaving Dean's room, you prepared to make your exit. But something stopped you. Looking down at the knife in your hand, the light above glistened off the blade. You suddenly got what you felt was probably the worst idea you'd ever had. Unsure of what compelled you; morbid curiosity, revenge, a death wish; you weren't sure, but you had to go and see the demon one last time.

            Turning and heading the way that Sam had taken Dean, you found yourself looking at the storage closet. Peering around, you were sure there weren't any other doors down here. There was nowhere else he could have gone. You hesitated as you reached for the knob.

_What am I doing?_

_What the fuck am I doing?_

            Your hand was shaking, but you gripped the knob resolutely and turned it, the knife tightly clutched in your other hand. The door swung open, and you were almost relieved to see exactly what you knew was already here, a storage closet. There was nothing but a bunch of metal shelves on wheels and old boxes. For a moment you thought you must have been wrong and should just leave, but before you could make such a decision you heard a voice from behind the shelf at the far end of the room.

"Heya Sammy, you change your mind already?" you heard in Dean's low and gravelly voice.

When he didn't get a response, the room fell silent.

_Really, what am I doing?_ you thought as you forced yourself to move towards the sound. Curiously you grabbed onto one of the shelves and pulled it so that it rolled to the side, revealing a whole other section of the room that was previously hidden. There was a circle with a strange symbol inside painted on the floor in the center of the secret room, and a single light bulb hung from the ceiling. In the center of the circle was Dean Winchester, his hands and feet bound him to a chair, which honestly perplexed you as you've seen his strength and no way could a couple of ropes hold him. But for whatever reason, he appeared to be trapped. When his eyes met yours, you felt all of the warmth rush out of you. Your legs refused to move and all you could do was stare back into those savage green eyes. Dean's mouth twisted into a menacing grin at the sight of you.

"Hey Y/N. You just couldn't stand to be away from me, could you sweetheart?" he said, his eyes trailing your body suggestively with that primal gleam that you can't possibly forget. Fighting back terror, you held yourself firm in front of the currently subdued demon.

_Move,_ you shouted inwardly at your body. _Move!_ And you did, stepping towards him with the knife held out in front of you.

"Oh, are you going to kill me with that, sweetheart?" he said, with an amused smile spreading over his face, and those damn crinkles on the sides of his eyes.

"I should." you responded, but you couldn't hide the shake in your voice. Then you remembered Sam. He was so good to you. This was his brother and he was just trying to save him. _Can I really be responsible for taking that from him?_

"You took _everything_ from me!" you spat bitterly, responding out loud to your silent question.

            "Oh come on, I can see right through you princess. See who you really are inside, and it isn't Mother Teresa." he said, leaning forward. "You like being treated like a worthless bitch, because that's what you think you deserve, isn't that right?" Your hand tightened on the handle of the blade, causing your knuckles to turn white.

 "Because, that's the closest anyone will ever come to loving you." he crooned. "Not only that, but hell, it even gets you off a little. Face it sweetheart, you're even more damaged than I am-"

"Shut up!" you screamed, wildly swinging the blade at him and making contact, cutting a large gash across the side of his face.

He growled from the pain and his eyes shot to black, anger taking over his face.

Looking down, you saw blood running down the blade in your hand.

            "You better kill me, baby or next time I find you I'll show you what real torture feels like. I'll carve you up nice and slow and before long, you'll be on your knees begging me to kill you". Before he'd even finished his sentence, the wound on his face began to fade away, as if it had never happened. Horrified, you stared at him. _No, no, I cut him. No how is that possible?_ Lifting the blade above your head, you prepared yourself to plunge it into his chest, not entirely sure if it would even work. But for whatever ungodly reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He smirked as he saw the internal struggle in your eyes.

"You're so weak it's pathetic." he laughed, hanging his head and shaking it with disbelief.

Tears filled your eyes, and you felt yourself beginning to come apart.

_Not in front of him. I won't,_ you thought. Clenching your jaw, you quickly turned away from Dean.

"See you around, sweetheart." you heard his voice calling out from behind you as you fled from the room, from the bunker. It sounded a lot like a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think! I want to do this right, so any feedback is appreciated!  
> <3 New chapter soon!


	26. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader goes back to her home town. Her visit doesn't last long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            Lebanon, Kansas. That's where you were, where the bunker was located. The only way you figured that out was because the stranger who picked you up told you. It wasn't exactly your favorite idea of how to travel, but without any money you didn't have a lot of options. So you walked as far away from the bunker as you could until you found yourself on a long stretch of highway, holding your thumb out as cars passed you by. The man who picked you up was kind enough. He didn't give off any weird vibes, but it was hard to hide your obvious discomfort at being so close to him. The man eyed your scars questionably and asked a few times if you were okay, or wanted to go to the police station. He was nothing like Dean or any of the demons you'd met, but that didn't stop you from sitting as far against the door as possible, trying to contain your jumpiness until you reached your stop.

It was hard not to focus on Dean's words from the last time you spoke.

_It's not true,_ you told yourself.

_He's a liar, and a monster. He just wants to hurt me. He doesn't know me._

_I don't feel like I deserve this. I mean why would I? I don't deserve any of this!_

_And the things he did..._ you closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to expel the haunting imagery.

_He's wrong._

_"That's the closest anyone will ever come to loving you"._

_"You're even more damaged than I am"._

_"You're so weak, it's pathetic"._

"He's wrong." you said out loud as you walked along the street, trying to cover as much distance as possible.

_There's no way he's right._

_But I am weak... He was right about that. So maybe he's right about everything._

_No, it doesn't make sense..._

_...Is something wrong with me?_

            Voices swirled in your mind and you tried to make sense of it, but you couldn't. You tried not to let the words get to you, but you couldn't stop it. The feelings just got worse. You felt angry, scared, confused, hurt, weak... _damaged._

_______________________________________

            After a few less than enjoyable days of hitchhiking and sleeping in the cold, you finally reached your hometown. The place you hadn't seen since the night Dean took you. Everything looked the same is it did the last time you saw it, which shouldn't be surprising. But for some reason it, as selfish as it may be, bothered you to see how much the world simply went on without you while you'd gone through so much. When you walked past your college campus, a little bit of nostalgia kicked in. Even though you knew you could be pretty lazy, and tended to procrastinate quite a bit, you really did miss taking classes. _It would be nice to go back._

            This time, you took a different route back to your aunt's house, taking the long way around to avoid the bar where your life changed for the worse. As you walked up the sidewalk to your driveway, you almost expected to see your aunt's car parked there. A small part of you imagined going up to the porch and ringing the bell, only to have your aunt come smiling to the door and let you in. It wasn't.  She wasn't there, and never would be again. Instead you were met by a "For Sale" sign in the front yard. That was it. She died and the world moved on. They cleaned her up and, probably marked it down as an animal attack, and now her house was being sold as if nothing happened, as if the rest of the world didn't care.

_I'm sure I'm at least registered as a missing person,_ you thought, considering going to the local police. _But what then? Nobody is going to come and pick me up, my family is dead. What's my reason for disappearing the night of my aunts murder? "A demon killed her and kidnapped me"? Sure, that will go over well. I'll either be blamed for the murder or locked up in some hospital as a lunatic._

            When you thought about it, you couldn't even really come up with a good reason for coming back here. The simple fact is, this was your home, your only home. Where _else_ should you go? What do people _usually_ do when this happens? ...As if this is something that happens every day.  

_What is going to happen to me?_ you wondered. The last thing you wanted was to be homeless, wandering the streets, knowing that all of the monsters under your bed were actually real. There was no other option.

            When you arrived at the police station, the officer at the desk eyed you with concern as you approached. scars covered your body in all the areas that your skin was exposed, your hair was a mess, and the clothes you had on were about ten sizes too big.

"How can I help you miss?" the officer asked politely as he looked you up and down.

"I...My name is Y/N. I-I think I need help." you said.

"That's what we're here for. Are you alright? Do you need us to call an ambulance?" He said.

"N-no, no I don't think so. I umm..." you fumbled uncomfortably with the hem of your shirt as you spoke. "Something happened, and I don't know what to do".

The officer pulled out a couple of slips of paper from a cabinet in his desk, grabbed a pen, and began scribbling at the top of the paper before looking at you again.

            "Well the first thing we need to do is file a report. I need you to tell me, in detail, exactly what happened." he said. This instantly made you uncomfortable, as you were just standing in the lobby, and although no one was close enough to hear you it made you feel extremely vulnerable.

            "Umm..." You muttered, looking warily around the station. When he noticed he offered to have someone take you to a more private room to talk, and you agreed. It took you what felt like a very long time to explain everything to the female officer who was writing your report. One important detail that you left out was the fact that the man who attacked you was a demon. You described the house in Massachusetts, but couldn't remember the name of the city or the building.

            As you tried to brush over certain details and summarize as best you could, the officer would continually stop you and ask you to be more specific. She had you explain your abuse in more detail than you'd ever wanted to, and give quotes as accurately as possible, including many of the horrible things that Dean had said to you. It was difficult to get the words out, and some you simply couldn't. There was no way you knew how to explain your experience with the bunker and avoid the topic of demons and seeing Dean again, so you left that part out. Instead you said that your kidnapper dumped you somewhere and a stranger took you in until you decided to leave.

            You refused to disclose any information about Sam. Deep down, you wanted to tell her about the bunker, where it was, that Dean was there. Maybe they could stop him. For some reason, you doubted that they could. And you had a feeling that it wouldn't hurt only Dean, but Sam as well. And all of that information on spirits and other evil things, _what would happen to that?_ Sam wasn't exactly someone you were close to, but he _did_ take care of you, and was the first sign of compassion you'd seen in a long time and it didn't seem so bad to leave a few extra details out of your story.

            They weren't as helpful as you'd imagined, simply saying that they would look into your case, and requested that you allow a few photos to be taken of your injuries. They offered to admit you into a hospital but you refused, accepting the phone number and information they gave in case you changed your mind. As it turned out, your aunt hadn't left a will before she died and everything had already been confiscated and distributed by the state as they saw fit. Since there were no other relatives, your aunt was given a county burial, and after getting directions from one of the officers, you began your trek to visit her grave.

            Most of the events following the police station had been a blur. All you could remember was being stopped by a stranger on the way to the cemetery, followed by the feeling of hands grabbing you from behind before you blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh that was a long time with all plot and no porn. Sorry about that! I just started really getting into the story, haha. I hope you've enjoyed it, and if you stuck with me this long then THANK YOU <3\. New chapter will be up soon! Feedback is loved! <3  
> I might change up the ending of this chapter a tiny bit just so that it doesn't feel so rushed and sudden. I guess I was just really excited to get to the next part. Let me know what you think!!


	27. Sharing Isn't Caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty smut smut smut!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            When you came to, you found yourself lying on the cold concrete ground. It was dark and the air smelled like sawdust and something else you couldn't quite place. It reminded you of the smell you get when lighting a match. A scent you realized you also noticed back when you were in Crowley's lair. Your head was throbbing as you tried to pull yourself out of your groggy state and assess your surroundings. The place you were in looked like the inside of an abandoned warehouse.

            "Oh look, our new toy is awake." you heard a voice behind you say. Pushing yourself up on your hands, you turned to see three figures approaching you. There was one with short black hair who looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't remember who he was. Dragging yourself to your feet, you hurriedly backed away from the strangers, and they smiled as they watched you. Suddenly your back collided with something solid and arms snaked around your waist.

            The uninvited touch sent a wave of panic crashing through you as you struggled against it.

"Let go! What are you-" the black haired man pressed against you sandwiching you between the two strangers.

            "Hey little girl. Didn't think I'd see _you_ again." he said, blinking as his eyes changed black. Instantly you recognized the figure. He was one of the demons who had brought you your food when you were held captive at Crowley's. "Where's your master, the Winchester? He get bored of you already?" the demon crooned, as the one behind you dragged his hands up your body and began fondling your breasts over your shirt.

"P-please! Let go!" you yelled as you tried desperately to tear the man's hands away from your chest.

            "Or maybe you were just being naughty and ran away. Is that it?" he said as he began grinding his hips against you. "If so, I'm sure he wouldn't be too happy about us playing with his toy now would he?" the demon smiled, as he trailed a finger down your arm. Leaning in so that his lips were right next to your ear he growled, "Good". He began kissing you, wet sloppy kisses down your neck, and you thought you were going to be sick.

            In a last ditch effort to stop what was happening, you drew your head forward before slamming it backwards into the other man's nose. He grunted, reeling from the hit as his grip on you loosened. Sliding out from between them, you tried to make a run for it but the other two men were guarding your escape. One had blonde hair, and the other had a long scar running down his face. In the moment of hesitation it took you to try and change direction, the demon you head butted grabbed you by your hair and yanked you backwards, causing you to cry out as he forced you to face him. He had a beard, his nose was bleeding from your attack, and his eyes were black. Before you could react, he drew his fist back and slammed it into the side of your face, and your jaw erupted in pain.

            As you fell backwards, one of the other demons, the blonde one, caught you and pinned your arms behind your back. The bearded demon punched you again, and again, as you sobbed, your mouth hung open, unable to scream. Finally, he kneed you in the stomach and the air went out of your lungs. The blonde demon holding you released his grip and let you fall to the floor at their feet. You heard laughter coming from a few of them but you could tell which as your mind reeled from the pain.

            Suddenly you heard one of the most terrifying sounds you knew, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You wanted to crawl away, but they had you surrounded. The black haired demon grabbed you by the hair and tugged  you up to your knees, so that your face was level with his erection. He shoved his pants down just enough for it to spring free, throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum. The demon wrapped his other hand around his length and began pumping slowly as he pulled your head towards it.

"Open your fucking mouth, whore." he growled, rubbing his length back and forth across your face. Tears began falling down your face as you begged him to stop.

"Please, please don't. Please, why are you doing this?" you cried.

"Shut up, bitch." he said, backhanding you across the face. "Now open your god damn mouth before I give you something to cry about".

            Your face flushing with humiliation, you hesitantly complied, opening your mouth. As soon as you did, he shoved himself inside, so deep that it made you gag. At the same time you felt hands reaching around you from behind, unbuttoning your shirt. You tried to struggle against it but the black haired demon had your head in a vice grip as he fucked your mouth with unforgiving force. As your shirt fell to the ground, the cool air hit your exposed skin. The demon behind you began grabbing your breasts, kneading them in his hands. He pinched and pulled at your nipples, your cries and gags muffled by the man filling your mouth. Releasing one of your breasts, he slid a hand down under the elastic of the front of your sweats and began rubbing your clit.

            The black haired demon gripped you painfully as he bucked into you, working through his orgasm and coming down your throat. He held you there until you swallowed every last drop before releasing you. The bearded demon behind you, flipped you around, slamming your back into the concrete. He grabbed the hem of your pants and jerked them down your legs in one swift motion.

"Nonono! Please! No don't! Please don't!" you cried and pleaded and kicked your legs, but the demon just laughed and kept going.

            "You're a feisty bitch aren't you? We're just going to have to teach you some manners." he said, gripping your legs and forcing them onto his shoulders as he began to free his own length from his boxers and nestled himself between your legs. The black haired demon kneeled down next to you and pinned your arms above your head with one hand, using the other to explore your body. At the same time, the demon with the scar down his face approached, now stripped naked. He stood above you and began jerking himself off as he watched you being manhandled by the other two.

            The bearded demon between your legs began rubbing himself against your opening, only taking a moment to toy with you before forcing himself inside. You weren't wet and cried out from the pain. He pulled out slowly until just the tip was inside you before slamming back in again. The demon who was thrusting into his own hand above you had lust blown eyes and was becoming more fervent in his efforts.

"Shit this bitch is tight" he moaned as he continued to pound into you repeatedly. "We're gonna fill you up good little girl"

Hearing that sparked a new kind of fear inside of you and you began struggling again in earnest.

"Please, not inside. Please, please pull out! Please, anything but that! I'll do anything! Pleas-"

The black haired demon who was fondling you slapped you hard across the face.

            "Shut up, whore. You'll take what we give you, and you'll be grateful, you got that?" Hissed as the other demon continued to thrust into you. It only took a couple more for him to reach his release. You screamed as he held you tight against him, not allowing you to pull away while he finished inside of you. No more than a few seconds after he finished, the scar faced demon who was jacking himself also reached his own release, grunting and slowly pumping himself as he let his cum rope out all over your breasts and stomach.

            As soon as the bearded demon pulled out of you, the black haired one took his place, flipping you over onto your stomach. Flailing on the ground, you tried desperately to drag yourself away from him, but he gripped you strongly by your hips and lifted you up onto your knees. He didn't hesitate for a moment before pushing himself inside of you. Unlike the bearded demon, he took his time, fucking you rather slowly. The sudden feeling of his wet finger probing your ass shocked you as you struggled and screamed.

            "I've got a better use for that pretty mouth of yours." you heard as the blonde haired demon who had so far been on the sidelines came into view. He removed his pants, his throbbing erection springing free as he knelt down in front of you. Grabbing your chin with his hand, he began prying your mouth open with his thumb, pumping himself with his other hand before beginning to push into your mouth. You now had demons on both sides, one inside of your core and the other pummeling your throat.

            Struggling became counterproductive because when you tried to push away from one, you were pulling the other deeper, and their thrusts kept forcing your body to rock back and forth between them. The black haired demon pushed a finger inside of your tight ass so that now every one of your holes were filled. He pumped in and out painfully a few times before adding a second, then a third. His fingers were smaller and less callous than Dean's had been, but that didn't take away from the painful stretch as he forced you open. You couldn't even channel some of the pain into your screams because of the scarred demon shoving his way down your throat, making breathing too much of a priority as you gagged and whimpered.

            Suddenly the black haired demon pulled out from you entirely and raised the tip of his erection up to your ass. He pressed himself in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, stretching your further as you clenched around him. The demon who had your mouth on him finally came, but instead of making you swallow, he pulled out and released himself on your face and in your hair. Once the demon behind you had bottomed out, you tried your best to hold still because every movement sent searing pain through you.

"Please" you begged weakly in a hoarse voice.

            "Smile nice and big for me honey!" you heard and when you turned your head you saw, to your horror, the blonde demon holding a phone with the camera pointed directly at you. Not a moment later, the man behind you began to move inside of you, making you scream and plead for mercy. He grabbed your hair from behind and tugged roughly with every push. The blonde demon didn't lower the phone as he approached you, and you couldn't tell if he was taking pictures or recording but it didn't really matter either way.

"Come on, share." he said to the black-haired demon, who pumped into you a few more times before filling you to the brim with his cum.

            "You ready for both of us slut?" the blonde said as he grabbed you and pulled you against him so that you were laying on your side with him flush against your back. The scarred demon took the cue and lay down on the opposite side, in front of you. They grinded themselves against you from both sides and the one behind you reached his arm around and began to choke you so you'd stop saying "please". You weren't at all prepared when they both unceremoniously slid inside of each of your holes. They began pounding into you roughly from both sides, whispering sick and horrible things in your ear. Every time you cried out or tried to beg with what little oxygen you could muster, you could hear the other demons laughing at your suffering.

            "You know what we're going to do when we're done with you?" the black haired demon who was simply watching at this point said, kneeling down so you could hear him better. "We're going to skin that pretty little meat suit of yours alive... And we're going to do it. very. slowly." he crooned, and you could hear the smile on his lips.

For hours the demons took turns raping and beating you, barely giving you any moments of reprieve. When they seemed to be tired of their activities they strung you up so that you were hanging by your wrists from a chain attached to the ceiling. You knew very well what would happen next. They had made sure to tell you all about how they planned on killing you, and making it as painful as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I hope you enjoy!!! New chapter coming soon! <3 Thanks for sticking with me!


	28. New Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is awaiting death but is met with something else instead. Something she never thought she would see again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            Barely conscious, you hung there by your wrists, your legs too weak to support you. It was hard to tell if it was seconds or hours that you hung there, waiting for them to start carving. The piercing feeling of metal on your skin never came though. Instead, you heard a loud crash, like a shelf being knocked over, followed by load grunting and footsteps. Trying to focus your eyes, you squinted at the figures moving around you, trying to make sense of the sudden chaos. It was a blessing that you were so out of it, otherwise you would have had to see in horrible detail what was happening, rather than just a blurry vision of the events.

            The demons were being slaughtered. It was brutal and horrible. One lay on the ground near your feet, torn open from his clavicle to the middle of his chest. The screams of another rang in your ears. The relief at your luck was short lived, because as soon as your "savior" stepped into view, you felt all shreds of hope that you had left shatter. It was as if Lucifer himself had appeared before you as you stared into those haunting green eyes that you never thought you would see again.

_Dean Winchester_

            If you ever thought you could just simply die from fear, this would have been the time. It would have been kinder than having to cope with the feelings that filled you at the sight of him and his rage filled eyes. Closing yours, you prayed one last desperate prayer for salvation.

            The chains holding you up were removed from your wrists and you fell forward, feeling yourself enveloped in a protective warmth. It was a feeling that didn't bring you pain or suffering and that in itself was your saving grace at the end of your rope. After a moment, the familiar scent of musk filled your nostrils, but you were too weak to fight, too weak to beg or scream or struggle; too weak to open your eyes as you allowed yourself to be carried away in the warm embrace that you hoped would last forever.

            A few times you regained consciousness just enough to see the trees rushing by outside of the window. Your form unmoving, your mind so worn out that there were no thoughts, no fear, no hope, no pain, nothing inside of you in these moments. When you awoke, it was to the feeling of arms around you again. Glancing up weakly you saw the face of the monster that was your hell. He was lifting you from the backseat of the Impala, a strange look on his face that you hadn't seen before. Fear began to fill you again, but all you could manage was a barely audible whimper as he carried you to the bunker.

            "Sam!" Dean shouted as he kicked shut the door behind him, holding you in his arms. Sam appeared from around the corner, a look of shock and concern spreading across his face at the sight of you.

"Bring her in here and lay her down." Sam said, leading the way down the hall to the room you'd stayed in during your last visit.

"She needs help. Where's Cas?" Dean said as he gently lay you on the bed before sitting in a chair beside you. That simple thing in itself, the gentle way he set you down, as if he was afraid you might break, was so uncharacteristic you thought you'd imagined it.

"He had some business to take care of. He said he'd be back in a few days". Sam whispered, pausing to look at you before leaving the room.

            It wasn't until you noticed Dean's eyes scanning your body that you remembered how exposed you were. Another small whimper passed through your lips as you stared up at him with a mix of pain and terror in your eyes. At the sound, his eyes met yours and there was that look again that you'd never seen before. There was emotion in them. He looked...hurt.

            "Y/N" he breathed quietly as he stared into you for only a moment before tearing his eyes away and going back to surveying the rest of you. Sam returned with the bag of medical supplies that you remembered from before and a wet towel, handing it to Dean before pulling up his own chair next to him. Dean took the wet rag and reached out to press it to your skin, it felt warm and soothing against your scrapes and cuts. But Dean touching you always meant pain, and you began to tremble at his touch, causing him to pause.

"Dean... Maybe I should-"

"Yeah." Dean interrupted Sam quietly as he set the rag down on the bed and stood up. He left the room without another look in your direction. Sam moved to Dean's empty chair and began carefully cleaning the blood off of you. The entire time, he refused to make eye contact, eyebrows knitting together as he focused on the task at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, is that sunshine????!! :)  
> Tell me what you thought! More chapters coming!  
> <3


	29. Waking Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader deals with her first few days back at the bunker. Back with Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            Since the demons hadn't had the chance to start carving away at you, it didn't take long for Sam to finish cleaning your wounds. The majority of your injuries were major bruising, and most of the blood was on your face and between your legs. He was very gentle with you, and did his best not to make it more uncomfortable than it already was. Sam didn't say much, and he didn't ask any questions about your encounter. He gave you some water and brought some extra clothes in before stepping out of the room so you could rest.

___________________

"No... no no no.." You repeated as Dean continued his torture.

"Y/N!" He was grabbing you, his eyes black and full of malice. "Y/N, wake up, it's ok!"

"No no!" you screamed, waking yourself from your nightmare.

But you felt hands on your shoulders, and when you opened your eyes and saw Dean you realized the nightmare was real. Tears instantly began to pour down your face, and you struggled and screamed.

"P-please please, don't hurt me!" you cried, as Dean pinned your shoulders down to keep you from thrashing. His mouth was moving, but you couldn't hear his words. Sam came bursting into the room and Dean released you, backing away quickly to let his brother take his place in trying to calm you.

"Shh, Y/N. Hey, hey it's okay. You're okay. Nobody's going to hurt you, it was only a dream. You're safe." he spoke in a comforting tone and your screams and struggles died down to trembles and whimpering sobs.

You looked past Sam at Dean who was standing a few feet back now.

_That look again._

His eyes were full of pain and guilt as he stood there, watching you with his hands in his pockets. If you didn't know better, it almost looked like tears were beginning to well in his eyes. Sam followed your stare, giving his brother a sympathetic look before turning back to you and resting a hand over yours.

            "It worked Y/N... I cured him. Dean's not a demon anymore." he said, but the words just passed over you as you stared like a deer in headlights at Dean, wishing there was more distance between the two of you. Dean's mouth began to move as he struggled to find the words he was searching for, but nothing came out. Sam gave you a small smile and squeezed your hand gently before standing up and walking over to Dean. He put a hand on his older brother's shoulder and together they both went out the door.

A little while later, you overheard talking outside in the hall.

"She can't stay here, Sam. This isn't good for her. She needs help, and proper care." Dean said.

"And where is she supposed to go, Dean?" Sam retorted frustratingly. A long silence passed between them.

"...Doesn't she have any other family, anyone who can-" Dean stopped mid-sentence as Sam shook his head.

"Her aunt was her only family. And that demon that got away-..." Sam said in a low voice.

There was a loud sound that made you jump, as if someone had punched a wall.

            "Damn it!" Dean cursed. "She's afraid of me, Sammy. I mean of course she is, after I-..." The sound of his voice breaking was unbelievable to you as you listened intently. "This is my fault and I can't fix it... There is no fixing _that_ ". You didn't hear any more of the conversation.

            You were bed ridden, but it wouldn't have mattered if you weren't because the idea of leaving that room and having to face Dean terrified you more than anything. At night you stared at the door for hours, expecting him come sauntering in at any moment with that sadistic grin on his face that you remembered so well. When you did sleep, you had the same nightmare as before, only this time when your screams woke you up, Dean wasn't there towering above your bed. The room was empty and the halls outside quiet.

In the morning, you heard a knock at the door, followed by the voice that haunts you.

"Y/N." he said from behind the door, waiting for an answer.

_It's happening. He's coming to hurt you._

            Your eyes grew wide in terror and all you could think about was escape, but your body was too injured to respond properly and all you could do was scoot yourself up against the headboard, praying that the door wouldn't open and you would wake up from your nightmare.

The knock came again.

"I-" he cleared his throat. "I'm not going to hurt you, sweetheart. I uhh, just thought you might be hungry... I brought you some food".

_"Come on, sweetheart. Don't pretend you're not hungry."_ you heard in your head from the night at the abandoned cabin. When you didn't answer, he turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door, revealing his broad silhouette standing in the doorway.

            As your heart pounded away, it no long mattered that your body was in pain. You began to scramble off the side of the bed in an attempt to run away, but when your feet hit the floor, your legs refused to support you. Stuck between the bed and the dresser, all you could do was curl up into a ball on the floor against the wall. His footsteps approached you and you squeezed your eyes shut as tears poured out of them.

"No no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you chanted as your rocked yourself back and forth. Even though your eyes were closed you could still feel his presence, crouched down in front of you.

"Y/N" he whispered, gently touching your forearm. When you gasped at the touch, he pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned.

            "P-please, God please. I'm s-sorry. Just kill me. Just kill me. P-please don't h-hurt me anymore, please!" you pleaded through sobs, now shaking violently. "I'll do whatever you say. I'll b-be good. I promise I'll be good! Please!" Letting your knees sink away from your chest onto the floor, you put your hands flat on the floor in the space between them, and kept your head bowed in an attempt to appear as submissive as possible. In your weeks with him, he never tolerated it when you put up a fight or tried to escape. The times he hurt you the least, which wasn't saying much, were the times you were compliant. He had loved seeing you broken, completely surrendered to him, and it was your only possible defense.

            "I'm sorry." he said, his voice barely a whisper. "D-don't say-... Don't think that-... Y/N I know you hate me. You should. I just want you to know how sorry I am... I-I will _never_ hurt you again. Never".

            After a what felt like ten minutes of silence, you slowly lifted your head just enough to peek at the man in front of you. The man who hurt you more than anything in the world, who was now saying things that you couldn't begin to process. A sudden pain shot through your lower abdomen causing you to gasp, doubling over and clutching at your stomach.

"Y/N!" Dean said as his eyes grew wide with shock. "Y/N what's wrong?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it! Thank you guys so much for the lovely comments! <3 A new chapter will be up soon!


	30. Angels and Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader meets Castiel, and learns some disturbing news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            The cramps blazed through you as you clutched your abdomen, gasping. It felt worse than any menstrual cramps you'd ever experienced. Dean sounded frantic. He was asking you questions and you feared he would hurt you for not responding. He was doing something to you.

_A new kind of torture._

_It has to be._

"Shit shit!" you heard Dean yell as he leapt to his feet. There was a wetness down below, and you looked down to find blood had soaked through your sweats.

"W-what's happening to me?" you cried, imploring Dean for answers.

"Cas! Cas, you need to get here _now!_ " Dean yelled over a cell phone he held to his ear.

________________

            Six hours later, you were still on the floor and Dean was sitting in a chair across the room from you with his hands folded together and his head down.  That was when you heard a sound from somewhere else in the bunker. Dean leapt out of his seat, disappearing for a few moments before returning, a stranger following close behind him. The man had dark hair and was wearing a white shirt with a blue tie. Over that he had on a long beige trench coat.

            The pain had eased a bit in the time that passed and you stared up at the new stranger as he approached you. Looking down at you he began to speak in a monotone voice.

"Do not be afraid. I am not here to harm you, Y/N." he said.

"Who are you?" you said, your voice squeaking much more than you'd anticipated.

            "My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord." he said as he knelt down in front of you. You flinched away as his hand reached out towards you, but he simply rested two fingers on your forehead. A strange warmth filled your body, and it wasn't unpleasant. He removed his hand and tilted his head as he looked at you, an almost apologetic expression showing across his face as he stood up.

"I am sorry, Y/N. There is nothing I can do." he said.

Wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, you looked up at him, confused and scared.

"What the hell, Cas? What do you mean there's nothing you can do? What's wrong with her?" Dean said, his voice growing loud and impatient. Castiel looked over at Dean calmly.

"The child... It is too late. She has already lost it." he said, returning his gaze to meet yours.

Both yours and Dean's jaws dropped simultaneously.

"W-what?" you asked, your voice quivering.

"Cas... Cas, what are you talking about?" Dean said, both of your staring at Castiel like he was an alien.

"Neither of you were aware." Castiel said, more of a realization than a question.

"I- no, no I don't understand. I'm not... I couldn't be-"

"Are you saying she was pregnant?" Dean asked, interrupting you. "Cas, you answer me right now!"

Castiel let out a sigh. "Y/N _was_ carrying your child, Dean. But it seems that the recent stress and trauma caused to the mother's body lead her to miscarry." he said.

_No, no that's not possible. No. I was pregnant with his... No. No, no no._

"Wait- no, how can you be sure it was mine?" Dean asked, getting frustrated, something akin to panic showing in his eyes.

"You were the father, Dean" Castiel said simply. "There is no doubt about that".

            "Now about her other wounds." Castiel continued, ignoring the shock on both of your faces. "I am still living on borrowed grace. I can heal all of her injuries, but doing so will take its toll and shorten my life even further. I have already healed her internal injuries, as they were the most pressing". It wasn't until then that you realized the pain in your abdomen had completely faded.

"Cas, can I talk to you for a minute?" Dean said, gesturing for Castiel to follow him out the door.

______________

            A few minutes later, Castiel returned to your room alone. You were back on the bed, and had changed out of your soiled pants and into another pair after cleaning yourself up a bit. Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you for a long time without saying anything.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" he asked. When you didn't respond, he continued. "Dean felt that perhaps I should speak with you, seeing as he believes you would be... uncomfortable talking with him".

"Who, w-what are you?" you whispered cautiously.

"As I have already stated, I am an angel." he responded calmly and confidently, as if that wasn't the weirdest thing a person could say.

"But I don't understand. D-... he's a demon." you said.

" _Was_ a demon." said Castiel. "He is human now".

"A-and you're... an _angel?_ " you asked skeptically.

"Yes. I am" he said. "And I have heard your prayers Y/N. I can sense the pain and fear you are feeling now".

"Can you fix it?" you asked quietly.

Castiel gave you a sorrowful expression.

"I cannot erase what has happened to you. And I cannot cure your non-physical ailments if that is what you are asking." he said.

"B-but if you're an angel, then why can't you fix it? Why can't you help me? Why can't you bring my aunt back?" you said, staring at him with pleading eyes.

"It is not that simple, Y/N. I am sorry." he said.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring at him as if magically his answer would change into what you wanted to hear.

"You said you... heard my prayers?" you asked.

He bowed his head and stopped making eye contact with you.

"Yes." he said.

"When I was with... _him_?" Saying his name and knowing how close he was scared you. It was hard to forget the punishments that occurred when you said it before. "And when I was attacked by those demons?"

Castiel simply nodded, without looking at you.

"Why? Why didn't you answer me? Why didn't you help me?" your eyes started building up with tears as you spoke.

            Castiel stayed silent for a moment as if considering his response. "Yours are not the only prayers I hear. We cannot save everyone." He looked at you and saw that your expression had only darkened. "Even if I were to try, I am not at full strength. I would have had no way to reach you, or to save you".

"Well aren't there other angels? What about God?" you asked, a tightness growing in your chest.

"These are difficult times Y/N for Heaven. Besides, it is not our place to interfere with every human struggle." he said.

            At that moment something inside you broke. It seemed like finding out God was real should be a good thing. But you didn't feel good about it at all. It had been one thing convincing yourself that there was no God. That there was only evil and that nobody could help the things that happened in the world. But knowing that he was real, that angels were real, and that it didn't make a difference, was so much worse.

_What's the point then? What is the fucking point?_ you thought.

            It didn't make any sense. There were so many things you wanted to say. The anger and betrayal you felt, and the questions you had. You just wanted to scream at him, blame him for everything, for not saving you. You wanted to know what kind of God can let so many bad things happen every day, not just to you, but everywhere. You wanted to demand an explanation. But you just sat there shaking your head and the words wouldn't come.

Castiel placed a hand on your shoulder and stayed there with you while you wept.

_________________

After a long time, you finally calmed down. Your mind drifted back to the child that never happened.

"W-was I really pregnant with his child?" you asked.

"I am afraid so. If it is any consolation, I am very sorry for your loss." he said. A terrible thought suddenly occurred to you.

"...Was it human?" you asked.

"No." Castiel responded. "It would have been a Cambion. A very powerful being that is the result of a human and a demon conceiving together".

"It was a monster." you whispered, more to yourself than to Castiel.

"We will never know that for sure." Castiel said.

            "Even if it were human... It would still be a monster." you said, not hiding the bitterness in your voice. The thought of carrying Dean's child, the child of the man who did these horrible things to you, made you feel even more violated than anything else he had done. Your body was shaking, from what emotion exactly you could not say. "I... I'm glad it's dead." you said finally, looking up at Castiel. He did not respond, only looked at you with pity in his eyes. Suddenly you caught something out of the corner of your eye. It was Dean. He was standing quietly in the doorway, a look of absolute devastation on his face as he stared at you wordlessly.

Castiel wished you well, saying that he had important matters to attend to, and before you knew it, he had left the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Any critiques are helpful! <3 More chapters soon!


	31. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader gets some clothes of her own, and continues trying to cope with her fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

            The next day there was a knock at your door. Again, it was Dean. Your body tensed as he slowly stepped into the room, moving as if you were a deer he was trying not to startle.

"Hey, Y/N." he said awkwardly.

"W-where's Sam?" you asked, already drawing your legs up towards your body to make yourself smaller.

"He... He's out. He'll be back soon." he said.

"W-what are-"

            "I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to uh... I brought you some clothes. Thought you might want to wear something that's not big enough to house a Cirque Du Soleil show in for a change." he said, chuckling a little, trying to break the ice. When that didn't seem to have any effect, he rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. For the first time, you realized he had a couple of plastic bags in his hand. As he moved toward you, you flinched and tried to scout further away. "Whoa, hey um. I won't touch you. Just... here." He reached out his hand that was holding the bags slowly towards you, keeping his distance.

You stared at the bags in his hand, looking back and forth between them and Dean.

_If I don't listen..._ Trying to fight off the thought, you reached out for the bags, hesitantly as if Dean were just waiting to grab you as soon as you reached far enough. He released them to you, and you scouted further away, setting the bags next to you on the bed, between you and where Dean was standing. He stared at you expectantly and you realized what you must be doing wrong.

"I'm sorry. Th-thank you..sir." you said, looking down at your hands.

Dean cleared his throat and took a step backwards.

"Yeah, no problem. Just, let me or Sam know if you need different sizes or don't like them or whatever." he said dismissively, staring continuing to shift awkwardly as he stood there.

"So, um... I'll just leave you to... that... Alright." he said as he quickly made his exit.

            After Dean left, you began to look through the bags. There were a couple of shirts, some sweatpants, and a few different pairs of jeans of close but varying sizes. Separating the ones that fit you, you put on a black tank top and a pair of jeans that weren't too tight. You couldn't deny how nice it was to finally be able to wear something that actually fit you, something that was yours.

            Shortly after you'd gotten dressed, there was another knock. Your heart leapt in your chest as you stared at the door with fearful anticipation, but you let out a small sigh of relief when the door opened and it was Sam. His eyes widened with surprise when he saw your outfit.

"Hey uh, where did you get those?" he asked, and you could see him trying to work out in his head what happened.

"Um... It was... D-dean brought them." you said, struggling at the name.

"Dean? Like, my brother Dean?" Sam said with a small chuckle. He seemed amused about something but the laugh died when he saw the unchanging serious and slightly confused look on your face. "Sorry Y/N. It's just kind of unusual that-... Never mind. They uh, look good on you." he said forcing a polite smile. Sam scratched his head absently as he struggled for what he'd really come in to talk about.

            "Y/N." he said, walking over to sit in the chair next to the bed. His expression had turned serious. "Dean told me what happened... He told me about the baby". You winced a little at the word "baby", not really wanting to have this discussion. "Are you- how are you doing?" he asked.

Shifting uncomfortably, you turned your gaze away from Sam. Shaking your head slightly, you didn't trust yourself to speak without either crying or becoming angry.

"Hey" Sam said, changing the subject. "I think it'd be a good idea if you joined us for dinner tonight. It has to be boring just sitting in here all day by yourself".

If it were just Sam, you would be happy to have the company, but the thought of sitting in the same room as Dean was overwhelming.

"Y-you know what, I think I'm okay in here." you said, putting up a fake smile.

            "Y/N" Sam began, a look of serious concern on his face. "I know he scares you. But you can't stay locked up in this room forever. Nothing is going to happen. I'll be right there with you the entire time, okay? Please." he said.

            Wanting so badly to say no, you bit your lip as you looked up at him. He had this stupid adorable little puppy dog look in his eyes, and it just wasn't fair. He had been so kind to you, so helpful, so comforting, letting you stay in _his_ home, or whatever this is, and he never asked anything of you. Did you even have the right to say no? Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath.

"Don't leave me alone. Please." You whispered.

            "I won't." Sam said, smiling gently. He reached out for your hand and you took it as he helped you to your feet. Your body was sore, really sore. Grunting as you took a step, you had to hold onto Sam's arm for support. It wasn't until you reached the doorway that the reality began to set in.

_Dean._

_Dean's out there._

_Dean staring at you.._

            Stopping at the door, Sam waited patiently for you to slow your breathing and regain your composure before guiding you out into the hallway. Squeezing Sam's arm tighter, you used him to support your weight as you took slow steps toward the library. When the moment came, if Sam wasn't holding you up, you would have collapsed on the floor right then and there. Dean was sitting at the table with a beer in his hand and a plate on the table in front of him with a burger on it. There were two other identical plates sitting opposite him in front of empty chairs. When Dean saw you, he immediately rose to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back.

            Sam squeezed your arm gently as he felt you begin to tremble against his side. You had to shut your eyes and concentrate on what Sam said earlier, just so that you wouldn't lose control as he slowly guided you towards the table. He pulled out your chair for you and helped you sit down before seating himself in the chair next to you. After you were seated, Dean also sat back down, immediately taking a very long drink of his beer.

            Dean kept glancing at you as you ate, but every time you saw him, he would glance away and pretend he was focused on his burger. After he finished his burger, he cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Sam ignored the situation, occasionally shooting you a smile when you looked at him warily. Once everyone was finished, Sam stood up with his plate. He reached out for yours and gave you an apologetic look when the movement caused you to jump.

            Sam took the plates away and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone at the table with Dean. Your head hung low as your eyes bore a hole in the wood of the table in front of you.

_He said he wouldn't leave me alone,_ you thought, trying to hold back the urge to panic.

"Y/N," Dean said softly.

_Dean was choking you._

_"Ride me, bitch." he growled._

_His voice rang clearly in your head, and you could feel his rough fingers against your skin._

_His eyes were black._

"No." you whimpered quietly, still trapped in the past as tears slid down your face.

"Y-Y/N" Dean spoke again, pulling you out of your waking nightmare. Body tense and shaking, your fists clenched, you peered up at him across the table through blurry, watery vision.

            His eyes weren't black. His hands weren't on you. The only expression on his face was guilt. He stared at you, and the emotion in his eyes made it feel like you'd stabbed him in the chest, like _you_ were the one hurting _him._ He tore his eyes away from you and glanced shamefully down at the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, and if there's anything you might want to see! New chapter soon! <3


	32. Find What You Love and Let It Kill You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of a summary, how about a poem?
> 
> “My dear,  
> Find what you love and let it kill you.  
> Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.  
> Let it kill you and let it devour your remains.  
> For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.  
> ~ Falsely yours”
> 
> ― Charles Bukowski

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!  
> Definitely read the note at the end when finished!!!! <3

            For the next couple of days, Sam had been spending a lot more time focused on his research, of what you didn't know, and had been going out quite a lot. As a result you began to see less and less of him. Dean had been the one bringing you your food, which he would set down on the bedside table, and leave without a word. His presence scared you and he was aware of that. It felt like Sam was intentionally trying to get Dean to interact with you by not being around. When Dean offered to help you walk to the bathroom, you refused, falling into a panicked state every time he came near. When you got up to walk yourself, every time you winced Dean would too. He wanted to jump in and help you but he knew that he would only make things worse if he did. For the most part, he avoided you.

            Every night the nightmares came, and every night you woke up either screaming or in a cold sweat. They weren't getting any less vivid like you thought they might. After the last one, you made a decision. You realized that you would never feel safe again, not while Dean was around. So you waited a few hours after your nightmare had awoken you before getting out of bed. It was very early in the morning and the sun probably hadn't even risen yet. Getting off the bed, you crouched in front of the nightstand and quietly pulled the drawer open. Inside were a few of the books you had been reading, the knife you had taken from Dean's room the day you ran away, and the photo of Dean as a child with his mother.

            Staring at the photo for a moment, you considered the child, so full of love and joy. It was so innocent and pure. Reaching into the drawer, your hand hovered over the photo only briefly as you hesitated before moving over and picking up the knife instead.

_What am I doing?_ you thought, staring down at the knife in your hand, doubting yourself.

_No. No this is the only way. Then everything will finally be okay,_ you resolved, lifting your chin defiantly as you stood up and marched out of the room. There were no lights on in the hallway, and everyone was sleeping, at least you hoped they were.  Creeping quietly down the hallway, you stopped at Dean's door. It was slightly ajar and you could see into the darkness within. The fear began to creep back under your skin, and your hand began to shake slightly as you stood there, trying to find the will to go through with your plan.

_If he wakes up, he'll kill me,_ you thought.

_...Either way, it ends tonight. It will finally be over._

            Steeling yourself against your fear, you placed your hand on the door, gently pushing it open. As you looked inside, you could see Dean's form outlined in the bed. For a second, you almost thanked God that he was asleep, but remembering your conversation with Castiel, you stopped yourself.

_God's not here._

_God doesn't care._

_The only one who can save you is you._

Taking a deep breath, you began to slowly tiptoe across the room until you were standing next to Dean's sleeping form. You raised the knife above your head, and your hands began to tremble violently.

_This is it,_ you thought. _I can do this._

            You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your wild heartbeat, but the shaking wouldn't stop. Opening your eyes again, you looked down at Dean, preparing to plunge the knife into his chest. But as soon as you saw him, lying there with his emerald eyes watching you, definitely not sleeping, you froze. He rose a little on the bed, quickly catching your shaking wrist with his hand.

_It's over. It's done. He'll kill me and it will finally be over._

Without breaking eye contact he pulled your wrist, knife still in your hand, down towards his face, and moved up so that his throat was pressed up against the sharp edge of the blade. Once he was sure you knew that you were in control, he slowly removed his hand from yours and simply sat there waiting.

_This is a trick,_ you thought. _He's just toying with me. This is one of his sick games he likes to play._

Tightening your grip on the knife, you pressed it more firmly against his skin.

"If you want to kill me... I won't stop you." he said in a low voice, "Hell, I deserve it." He leaned into you so that the knife dug into his skin deeply enough to draw blood. "But this," he  slowly turned out his right arm so you could see the red marking he still had. "This won't let me die, even if I want to. It will just turn me back into a monster".

Staring into his eyes, you tried to process what he meant. What was the point of lying when he could just snap your neck before you even realized what happened.

            "If this is what you need, that's okay. I just don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you again, but I will. So you hurt me. Do whatever you need to. But if you choose to kill me, then afterwards, you find Sam and get the hell out of here." he said in a low gravelly tone. You watched the blood trickle down his neck, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Part of you wanted to run away, but another part of you wanted to slit his throat and watch the monster who hurt you bleed out on the floor. Hesitantly, you eased the knife off away from his skin just enough to see the cut. You watched it, for how long you couldn't say. You just watched, waiting for it to heal like last time. But it didn't heal.

"It's ok." he said.

            Anger filled you and you looked into Dean's eyes with glowering hatred. Moving the knife down lower, you sliced it across his chest, tearing his shirt and cutting a long horizontal line into his skin. He grunted from the pain, but he didn't move to touch you or escape, and he never broke eye contact. Again the wound didn't heal. The rage inside you grew and you repeated the same cut, just slightly lower, eliciting the same reaction from Dean as the last one.

_"You like being treated like a worthless bitch_ ". You dragged the blade over his shoulder.

You dragged it across his left arm... Then his right. Each time, your anger growing stronger.

"Why?" you cried at him.

_Again._ You repeated the same on each thigh.

"You killed my family! You took everything from me!"

_"Because, that's the closest anyone will ever come to loving you"._ You slashed it across his cheek like last time and watch the blood trickle down his face.

            Dropping the knife, you punched him as hard as you could. His head turned to the side from the force of your hit and he grunted again from the pain, but still he did not fight you. He held your gaze, and you could see his heart breaking just by the look in his eyes.

"Why? Why did you do it?" you screamed at him. "I hate you! You're a monster!"

_Again._ You punched him. You could feel pain shoot through your fist as it collided with bone, only increasing the adrenaline pumping through you.

"I begged you! I did everything you wanted! I had a life!" you screamed again.

_"Face it, sweetheart"._

            You punched him in the stomach a few times, and then back to his face, switching hands when one began to hurt too much. His body was so strong and firm, your punches were probably nothing to him and that just made you angrier.

"Why, damn it?" you kept screaming. At this point "why" was all you could day, as you wailed on him blindly.

_"You're weak"._

            You were too worn out, too tired to keep going. You were emotionally and physically drained. Your punches grew weaker, until eventually you were just shaking him, clutching bunched up fistfuls of his shirt in both hands, screaming and begging for him to tell you why. You slid down to your knees between his legs, still clutching his shirt, and you simply broke down.

Dean leaned forward and wrapped his strong arms around you, hugging you tightly. He made quiet "shh" noises as he gently ran a hand over your head, petting you tenderly.

            You hated yourself for crying to him, for being comforted by him. But this was something you needed. Something that only he could give you, and no one else. He was the only man you had ever been intimate with. He stripped you down and broke you until there was nothing left, and he was the _only_ who could put you back together. It didn't even make sense, and thinking about it only confirmed in your mind all of those horrible things he said about you. But he was so warm, so gentle, so sincere right now. This was the closest to feeling safe you'd felt in a long time, and it was in the arms of a man who'd happily made you suffer. A man who may or may not kill you one day.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you in his arms. "I'm so sorry".

Dean was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very important to me and I am worried as to whether or not it reads successfully the way that I intended. So please please, tell me what you thought, give me any notes, etc! I love you! More chapters coming! <3


	33. The Dean I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Dean's recent altercation with the angry reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            Dean stayed there and held you for hours. The entire time your mind danced in circles, trying to figure out why. Why hadn't you killed him? Why hadn't he killed you? Why was he holding you? Why were you clinging to him as if he were your life raft, and without him you would drown? Why was he crying for you?  Why had everything happened the way it did? Why anything?

            As you both wept, he sunk to the floor beside you and wrapped you up in his arms, sitting there until long after the sun had risen and you had finally begun to doze off. Gently slipping an arm under your legs and another under your back, he lifted you and lay you down on his bed. You felt his warm soft lips press lightly against your forehead before he pulled a blanket over you and quietly exited the room. It smelled like him, but as sleep came and left you in Dean's bed, no nightmares haunted you. _This isn't the Dean Winchester I know._

            There was a knock on the open door. Dean was standing there with a plate of food. He set it on the dresser and  turned to leave. But as he reached the door, he paused, instead choosing to close it and turn back to face you. Swinging your legs over the bed, you sat up and looked at his chest, avoiding eye contact and hugging yourself nervously. He was wearing a different shirt, but you could see the cuts you'd left on his shoulders and cheek.

            "How are you?" He said, trying to smile politely but it barely ghosted across his lips before dying. Before you could open your mouth, he continued. "I mean uh... stupid question. I mean, physically... Are you... Does it still hurt?" He glanced at the visible scars on your body before letting his eyes roam down over your clothes where he knew more were hiding.

"No sir" you said quietly, looking down at the floor. It was a lie and he knew it.

            Dean ran a hand down over his face, and nodded lightly, ignoring your use of titles that he'd made you use when he was a demon instead of calling him by name. As he began to approach you, your body tensed up and a small, barely audible, whimper escaped your lips. He continued his approach slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you, almost close enough that you were touching. Your eyes closed as you tried to fight back the panic that was building inside of you at his nearness.

            "Listen Y/N" he said, rubbing his forehead uncomfortably. "I just," his hand reached out and lightly brushed over the brand of his name on your shoulder blade. You flinched at the contact and he stopped, immediately retracting his hand. "I just need you to know that what I did to you... It wasn't me. I mean it _was_ me, but _I_ wasn't- I was a demon. I mean I could _never_... damn it!" he shook his head, growing visibly frustrated. "I don't know what to do Y/N. I can't take you home because I... And one of the sons of bitches that attacked you got away, and now he's not going to stop looking until he finds you and gets his revenge. I just... I want to make sure you're safe. You're my responsibility now, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do." he said, still shaking his head.

_I have nowhere to go._

_I have no one._

_Now he's telling me, I'm going to be hunted by demons wherever I go?_

This was all too much for you to take.

_Are you supposed to stay here forever? Are they going to throw you out eventually? Could you deal with being around Dean?_

_What if he goes dark again?_

_I can't just sit here and hide forever, terrified that something is going to kill me tomorrow._

Dean let out an exhausted sigh and stood up. He paced back and forth in front of you across the floor, before simply leaving.

____________________________

            You ate the food that Dean had left you, and went out to bring the plate back to the kitchen. Dean was sitting in the library drinking whiskey out of a clear glass. After you dropped off the plate, you crept slowly through the library, hoping that Dean simply wouldn't notice you as you went back to your room.

            "Y/N" he said to you while staring into his glass of whiskey. You froze like a deer caught in headlights. "Come over here, sweethea-" he cut himself off, wincing a little at the last word. "Sit down." he said, gesturing to the seat next to him. Holding your breath, you walked over and sat in the chair. "Sammy and I have a job. We're leaving in the morning." he said. "I don't know how long we'll be gone, probably no more than a few days." he glanced over at you before setting his drink down on the table and reaching into his jacket pocket. "This is the safest place in the world for you, but in case you run into any trouble..." He pulled a small handgun out.

Your eyes widened and you held your breath as you stared at the weapon in his hand, not sure what he planned on doing with it.

"This," he said, sliding a notch on the side of the gun. "is the safety. You make sure it's on when you're not firing, and off when you are." He looked at you to make sure you were watching.

            He pulled on the barrel, revealing the bullet in the chamber and showing it to you, before continuing. "Pull this back when you're ready to shoot." he said, sliding the hammer down with his thumb. He slid it back up, and then showed you how to load and unload the magazine. You watched carefully, thinking that you understood but still pretty sure that you'd manage to screw it up somehow if push came to shove.

            "Like I said, you shouldn't need it, but just so you know how." he said, setting the gun on the table. He also pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and set it on the table in front of you. "You already have Sam's number. Mine is in there too. Call us if you need anything". He finished his drink, and without waiting for a response from you, he got up and went back to his room.

_This isn't the Dean Winchester I know,_ you thought.

But even without his demon eyes, there was still a darkness in them that terrified you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I hope you enjoy! <3


	34. Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean left for to work a case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            Sam and Dean were gone for four days before returning. Only once did you pick up the gun Dean gave you. It was much heavier than you'd imagined. For some reason, you never thought using a gun would be difficult but as you held it there, it scared you. Turning it in your hand, you thought about how you could just use it on yourself. Solve all of your problems. But you weren't even brave enough to let the barrel point in your direction.

             When they returned, you had just finished taking a shower. As you headed out of the bathroom with your towel wrapped around you, you ran face first into something solid. Looking up, you saw Dean staring down at you. Everything you'd learned since being in the bunker about Dean being human flew out the window as the memories of the demon took over the forefront of your mind.

_No, no, no, no NO NO!_

Dean stood there, looking on with shock as you stumbled backwards with a look of pure terror on your face.

"Hey, whoa, Y/N!" Dean yelled, reaching out for you, catching onto your towel as your wet feet slipped on the hard floor, landing you on your butt with a loud thud. The towel was still in Dean's hand and you were naked on the floor. His eyes focused on the scar you had scribbled below your breasts that read "SLUT" in big letters.

"No, no, no, please!" You cried as you scrambled backwards, wild fright written all over your face. You weren't in the bunker anymore as far as your mind was concerned.

            "Y/N! Damn it, stop!" he yelled, crouching next to you and wrapping the towel around your exposed body and pulling your back flush against his chest. "Y/N, listen to me!" he said, holding you pinned against him, trying to stop you from flailing and hurting yourself more. "Listen to me, sweetheart." he said more calmly, holding you tightly so that you couldn't move as you sat there chanting "no, no, no, no". You're eyes were glazed over, not able to see the present as you relived your terrors again and again.

"It's okay, you're okay." he said, repeating calming words in your ear while he held you still. It took a few minutes for your eyes and thoughts to re-focus on where you were and your breathing to steady enough to stop hyperventilating.

"Y-you aren't hurting me?" You whimpered as you tried to regain control of the situation inside your head.

"No. I'm not hurting you. I won't hurt you, okay? You're safe, sweetheart. Please relax. You're okay. It's going to be okay." he reassured over and over as your heart rate steadied.

"I'm sorry." you whispered before pulling yourself free from his grasp and standing up, making sure the towel was secure around you. Dean stayed on his knees on the floor, watching you sadly as you quickly disappeared into your bedroom.

___________________________

            It was a few hours later when you finally emerged from your room. Going into the library, you saw Dean, again sitting in a chair and drinking whiskey from a clear glass. Sam was also there, sitting a few seats away, studying some books and other various documents he had splayed out in front of him. Neither of them noticed you at first when you entered. For a moment, you thought about turning back around and retreating again to your room. Instead, you stared at Dean until his eyes raised and locked with yours.

            "We need to find out more about this witch Rowena. I mean for all we know, she may know something about-" Sam stopped mid-sentence as his eyes traveled from Dean's to yours and back. "I forgot uh, I need to go... get something." he said as he grabbed up a few of his books and his laptop and hastily left the room. Neither you or Dean paid any attention as you stared at each other from across the room.

            Forcing your legs to do the exact opposite of what instinct wanted them to do, you marched yourself forward towards Dean. On your way over, you stopped off by a small table next to one of the book shelves and grabbed yourself an empty glass similar to Dean's. Pulling out the chair next to him and sitting down, you reached for the bottle of whiskey. Dean simply watched you curiously as you twisted off the top and poured some into your glass. You had to close your eyes for a moment to fight away the memories that tried to pry into your mind at the smell of Dean's whiskey.

            Steeling yourself against the taste, and your past, you lifted the glass to your lips and drained it entirely. Grimacing, you began to pour yourself a second glass. The look of confusion on Dean's face as he watched you would have been somewhat amusing from a third person perspective. As the alcohol seeped into your system, you felt it begin to calm your nerves as you took another sip.

"D-" the sound was so short and quiet that Dean almost didn't hear you. No matter what he was now, you still couldn't find the courage to call him by name.

"Why am I here?" you asked, staring into your glass.

"What do you mean?" he said in his low gravelly voice.

"I-I mean... Why am I here?" you said

Dean took another drink from his glass. "I told you." he said. "It's not safe for you out there on your own."

"But why?" you asked

"Because I screwed up alright! I stole your life from you! And then I let that demon lowlife escape!" he yelled.

"That's not what I mean." you said, your hand tightening on your glass as the aggression in Dean's voice caused you to tense up uncomfortably.

"I mean, why am I here. Why didn't you just drop me off at some hospital?" you insisted.

"Trust me I wanted to, I'm the last god forsaken person you should be around! But look what happened last time you went on your own-"

"So?" you interrupted. "Why is that your problem, or Sam's?"

Dean stared at you with his mouth open for a moment before answering.

"Because it's my fault, alright? I get it. What, do you really think me _or_ Sam would just throw you out on the streets? Who do you think we are?!" he scoffed as he took another drink.

"It's my fault everything happened the way it did," he continued. "and I'm just trying to clean up my mess alright? It's my problem because it's my god damn mess! It's my responsibility!"

For reasons that you couldn't explain, that wasn't what you'd wanted to hear. You weren't sure what you wanted him to say, but his response caused your stomach to sink a little.

"You never answered my other question." you said, the sting of bitterness escaping your lips.

"What question?" he asked.

"Why me? That night at the bar. Why did you have to choose me? Why not someone else?"

Dean sighed and again took a drink from his glass before setting it down on the table.

"Y/N" he began.

"Why didn't you pick up some other random girl? Why did you have to follow _me_ home, hurt _my_ family, take _me_?"

"I was a demon Y/N..." he said.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know. I didn't care. I-I thought you were young and pretty and..."

"and what?" you asked.

"And weak... You were so damn innocent and shy and shit. It was just too _easy_... I wanted to hurt you- I... wanted to break you... because it was fun." He rested his elbow on the table and shamefully buried his forehead in his hand.

"Oh." was all you could say.

It was a truth that deep down you already believed. But hearing it like that tore at your heart.

_An easy victim. One that just happened to show up at the right time. Someone pathetic enough to take it._

_What was I expecting to hear? That I was special or something and he just had to have me? Like I'm some damn "chosen one"? Would that somehow make it all better? Make everything that happened magically okay?_

            No matter how you reasoned with it, it hurt. Your mind wandered to the brand on your back. Dean's initials permanently engraved into you. _Just because it was fun_. The label beneath your breasts... _Exactly what he thought of you._

_How can I live in a place where I'm just the mess that needs to be cleaned up? I'm simply a horrible mistake that they pity too much to throw out._

You thought of the way Sam and Dean look at you, like a pathetic wounded animal that needs caring for.

Finishing off your drink, you turned to look at Dean, who still had his head bowed into his hand.

"So, then teach me how to fight." you said.

He lifted his head, looking at you with a shocked expression.

"What?" he asked.

"Train me to do what you do." you said with resolve.

"You can't just-"

"Teach me so I can leave." you interrupted him. "Teach me so I can live my life... So that I'm not just some weak and easy prey. I want _you_ to show me how to kill the next _you_ that I meet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter soon! Tell me what you think! <3


	35. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader begins her training with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            Dean suggested that Sam would be a better fit to train you. That it would be easier for you mentally and less dangerous over all. But you wouldn't have it. Dean was the demon that hurt you. He was your biggest fear, your biggest obstacle. If you wanted to learn to protect yourself against monsters like him, you had to be able to face that fear, no matter how hard it was. Besides, he knew better than anyone how the dark twisted thoughts of demons spin and ravel. He understood them on a more personal level than any other hunter could.

            He taught you about salt, holy water, and iron. He showed you what signs to look for, and how to draw a devils trap. You needed to learn to defend yourself in a fight too, but physicality with Dean was still too much for you, and it was clear that Dean was uncomfortable with the idea as well. He consciously maintained space between the two of you during his lessons, and did his best never to startle you or touch you without warning. These were all things that would have to change if you were going to make any progress. If you ever wanted to be safe, then you couldn't keep letting something as simple as a smell trigger a full blown panic attack. You just weren't ready.

"Exorcizamus te...omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis... um...i-incursio infern-...alis... uh...infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis-.....umm...omnis..."

"Stop, stop stop." There was a loud bang as Dean slammed his hand down onto the table, shaking his head with frustration. The sound made you jump, but Dean, not looking at you, didn't seem to notice.

            "Do you think a demon is just going to sit there and wait for you to remember the damn words? No! Even if they did, it won't matter if you stutter like that. You have to pronounce it clearly! Damn it, do you wanna get killed?" It had been a long night and Dean was losing his temper, the frustration pouring out of him before he could think twice about it. Taking an involuntary step back from him, you began to instinctively lift a hand in front of your face.

"I-I-I'm sorry, sir. I-I d-didn't m-mean to." you stammered out.

            "Hey, I-... don't" Dean said, standing up slowly from his chair with an open palm raised in front of him to signal peace. "D-don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong Y/N, okay?" He took a cautious step towards you as he reached a hand out to gently grasp the one you had raised in front of your face. "I'm sorry for going off like that." he continued, lowering his volume dramatically. "I shouldn't have- I didn't mean to scare you."

His strong and gentle touch warmed your skin and you were surprised to find yourself comforted by it.

_I'm okay. You're freaking out for no reason. Relax. It's okay. It's okay,_ you thought to yourself as you stood there breathing, with your eyes closed as you fought back the images in your mind. Focusing on the comforting touch grip of Dean's hand like it was a lifeline, you forced yourself to become grounded again before things got any worse. Opening your eyes, you looked up at him, making sure the ones staring back at you were green and gentle instead of black and angry. You let out a deep breath as the storm inside of you subsided.

"This is great." you sighed. "I'll learn all about how to defeat demons, then one will raise his voice at me and I'll turn into a shriveled useless mess at his feet."

Dean smiled slightly at your sarcasm. "Hey, you'd be surprised how terrifying an emotional woman can be to a guy."

 You almost laughed. Almost. But almost is something, right?

"Anyway, this is all precaution. I hope you never have to meet another demon for the rest of your life." he said as he let go of your hand and reached over to the table to pick up his drink.

"How about we call it a night, huh kiddo? I'm beat." he said, smiling softly as he gestured down the hallway for you to go on ahead of him.

            After you switched the lamp on like you did every night, you crawled into your bed, burrowing under the blankets for a moment to enjoy the warmth. You then opened your book and began reciting the exorcisms to yourself, determined to learn it as quickly as possible. Dean was right, you thought. _If I can't get this down, I'll die. It's as simple as that._

_______________________________

As you slept, the nightmares came again.

_"Slut"_

_"Weak"_

_"Pathetic"_

_"Whore"_

_"Ugly"_

_"Easy"_

_"Bitch"_

_"You're more damaged than I am."_

_"Now don't think that makes you special or nothing. It's just that if I want to fuck you until you're raw and bloody, or if I want to carve up that pretty little body of yours and feed you to the birds, there's nothing in this world that you or anyone else can do to stop me_. _"_

_"Don't cry, sweetheart."_

            You woke up in a cold sweat. The lamp was off.

_Why is the lamp off?!_

Grabbing the knife that you now kept under your pillow, your eyes dashed wildly around the dark room, searching.

In the corner by the door you saw the shadow.

_"Heya, princess."_

                                                     _________________________           

 

              This time you awoke for real. The lamp on the nightstand next to you was still lit. The shadow in the corner of the room was gone. You were sitting upright in bed, holding your knife in front of you, eyes wide in panic. Swinging your bare feet off the edge of the bed, you got up, still brandishing the knife, and went to the door. It was dark and quiet in the halls as you quietly slid the door open and crept down the hall into the library.

            Taking a seat in a soft cushioned chair against the wall, you reached over to the table next to you and grabbed a clear glass and the bottle of whiskey that always sat there. You were never very much of a drinker before. There never seemed much point to you. But now, with your own restless mind taunting and torturing you, you began to understand why people do it. Your hand reached over your shoulder to trace the markings on your back.

_"DW"_

_How does the human Dean feel about having his initials carved into my body?_ You wondered as your fingered glided over the letters.

         Taking your knife, you slid the blade quickly across your upper arm. Not because you wanted to hurt yourself necessarily. You didn't have the highest pain tolerance in the world, and you certainly weren't one of those angst filled, attention seeking, "no one understands me", teenagers. You judged the crap out of those people. No, you didn't have it worse than everyone else in the world. Not even close. You were fed and cared for, and _alive._ Even while you were with demon Dean, or those other demons, nobody skinned you alive, or cut off your toes.

           This wasn't about self-pity, though you couldn't deny that you were probably guilty of more than your fair share. It wasn't because you wanted to die either. You didn't want to die. Even after everything you'd been through, the unknown emptiness of dying still terrified you. The cut was simply an interesting sensation, not painful, just tingly. It wasn't very deep either, not much different from getting scratched by a cat.

          There was no real reason why you did it as far as you could tell, but watching the small amount of crimson red begin to seep through the small gash was almost enjoyable. It gave you a surprising feeling of control over your world. Realizing just how insane this whole thing must make you caused a feeling of shame to wash over you. Setting the knife down on the table, you silently leaned back with your drink and stared transfixed at the new mark on your arm as the fascinating tingling feeling lingered.

        The next morning you were exhausted, but luckily Dean sleeps in when there aren't any cases to be working on. You didn't expect to feel so much shame and embarrassment over the small cut on your arm. The location and the depth made it easy to cover with a t-shirt and wouldn't look very suspicious even if it showed. But the entire time, it made you more uncomfortable than you had imagined. You felt like Dean would simply know, as if he could read your mind and it was a neon beacon on your forehead. Truly and thankfully, they didn't seem to notice. But the unconquerable feeling of judgment weighed on you the entire time you were in his or Sam's presence. The shame outweighed whatever  unexplainable yet sweet relief that it gave you when you did it.

 When it was time to run through your exorcisms, you managed with only a couple of slip ups.

_Progress is progress is progress, I guess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a bit of a risk with this chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Please tell me what you think. New chapter will be out soon! <3


	36. First Aid and Stray Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean return from a hunt and think it's a good time for a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            Finally, you had the exorcism memorized, and understood the lore, origins, and methods of dealing with a few dozen different monsters, with demons as your primary focus. Out of what one might call paranoia since the bunker was supposedly one of the safest places in the world, you drew a devils trap just inside the doorway to your room. You also kept a can of salt and a jar of holy water close to your bed, as well as your silver knife that was under your pillow, which Dean never seemed to mind you keeping.

 _Precaution never hurt anyone,_ you told yourself. Even with all of that, you continued to sleep with the lamp on every night. Not once had you since repeated the actions of that night when you took your blade upon yourself, though the thought of it had crossed your mind in the middle of the night on a few occasions. _It's not worth the shame_ , you reminded yourself each time. Sam and Dean had recently returned from a vampire hunt, and Sam thought it would be a good opportunity to teach you some basic first-aid.

            Dean had a deep gash where a shard of thick glass had imbedded itself in his shoulder. The wound needed to be sanitized and stitched. Sam had you sit in a chair facing Dean so that you could work on the cut. Dean rolled up his t-shirt sleeve so that it was above his shoulder and out of the way of the wound, which made his defined muscles more noticeable. Sam stood over your shoulder watching and instructing. First, he had you clean the dried blood away from the wound. It was a little strange when Sam handed you the bottle of whiskey as a cleaning solution, and you stared at Dean like you weren't sure what to do.

"Come on sweetheart, I can take it." he said in a low gravelly tone.

"Shouldn't he go to a doctor?" you asked.

"Yeah, well unless we're dying we try to avoid places that ask too many questions. We're not exactly on buddy-buddy terms with most authorities." Dean said.

When you tipped the bottle just enough to let some of the alcohol flow into the cut, Dean grunted from the burn it caused. The sudden noise startled you and almost made you drop the bottle.

"S-sorry" you whimpered quietly.

Dean sighed, ignoring your apology and Sam continued the lesson. He showed you how to thread the curved suture needle, and instructed you on how to make the stitches.

"Wha-... Um, shouldn't you do this Sam?" you asked, looking up at him nervously. Sam smiled at your nervousness.

"Hey, you said you wanted to learn, right?" he said.

"Yes." you said, nodding a little. "But-"

"Well knowing a little first aid will help keep you alive in an emergency. It's alright, we've done this... well... a lot" he chuckled. "Don't worry, Dean shouldn't cry too much." he said, looking at his brother mischievously. Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes at Sam before grabbing the whiskey bottle and taking a long drink.

"Alright, can we do this before I get Alzheimer's?" Dean grunted, looking between the two of you. "And be easy with that needle, will you?... I know I'm going to regret this." Dean mumbled as you shakily brought the needle up to his skin.

            The process was slow, and you had to ask Sam to take over before you finished because Dean's frustration at the pain was becoming too much for you to handle. Every grunt or curse word made you begin to shake violently, and it was hard to hold yourself together. It amazed you how Dean could just sit still through being stitched up without any numbing or painkillers. There was no way that wasn't painful. Once finished, Sam showed you how to tie off the thread, and handed you the gauze to bandage the wound before heading to the kitchen to make some food.

            There was a sudden air of awkwardness once Sam had left the room and it was just you and Dean. Dean was the one teaching you about killing demons, but other than the night when you tried to kill him, you had both maintained a mostly consistent level of physical space from each other. His skin was warm as you pressed the gauze against it and began to wrap the bandage. He watched you the entire time and you avoided his gaze, pretending to be deeply focused on what you were doing.

"Is that okay?" you asked quietly after you'd finished. You fidgeted with your fingers as you stared down at the first aid bag.

            "Not bad at all" he said. As he stood from his chair, you also stood and took a quick step back from him. "You did good." he said, nodding at you and testing his arm by rotating it in small circles. The compliment affected you more than you'd anticipated, and a small smile twitched momentarily at the corner of your mouth. It was barely noticeable but Dean still caught it, and he winked at you before turning to go find Sam in the kitchen.

_No. No. What?_

Your face was hot. You were blushing.

_No. Just no._

_What's wrong with me?_

_He... He kidnapped me! He raped and tortured me!_

_That wasn't him._

_How do you know?_

_Even so, you heard what he said. I'm nothing special. I was just a little bit of entertainment. Now I'm his mess to clean up._

_Stop._

Scolding yourself, you pushed away those thoughts and went to grab one of the books about demons that you had been reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up quickly! I hope you enjoy! <3


	37. It Never Goes Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader have a late night discussion.
> 
> "Once you touch that darkness, it never goes away." - Dean Winchester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            That night, awoken from yet another nightmare, you crawled out of bed and headed to the library to sit and drink like you sometimes did when you couldn't sleep. Creeping quietly down the dark hallway so as not to wake anyone, you tucked your knife in your pants and picked up the bottle of whiskey and a glass off the big table before making your way to your favorite chair.

            For some reason, you found the library to be extremely peaceful at night. There was only a small lamp on in the large room so it was fairly dark and with everyone asleep it was just so quiet. Why it was different from being in your room, you weren't sure, but you enjoyed the time you spent sitting there, occasionally drinking away your fears.

            After a little while, you pulled out your knife, gripping it tightly with one hand and stared at the way the shadows hit the blade. The thought of using it on yourself again, just to feel that tingling, that control, and to watch the crimson red seep through, was tempting. Resting the side of the blade against your skin, the cold metal made you shiver. You weren't going to do it. You had already told yourself that it wasn't a good idea, and that Sam and Dean might see and assume horrible things about you. Instead you just sat there, lightly fingering the blade in your hand and watching the metal shine off the tiny bit of light in the darkness, feeling the cold against your skin as you let your mind wander.

            "Y/N, what the hell?" Dean said urgently, startling you. Before you could do more than jump, Dean was already almost on top of you with how close he was as he took you by the wrist and grabbed the knife out of your hands.

"Dean?" His name fell from your lips before you could stop it.

"What are you doing?" he said.

_You spoke his name. You spoke his name. No, no. He's going to hurt me. No no no!_

"I-I'm sorry! So sorry! Please I'm sorry!" you began whimpering.

"What?" Dean, now holding your knife, stared at you with his face scrunched up in utter confusion.

_"You don't get to say my name, skank!"_ Dean's voice shouted in your mind, filled with rage.

            "I didn't mean to say it, I'm sorry! Please don't be angry!" you cried, seeing the knife in his hand and thinking he was about to use it on you. Slipping down out of the chair, you fell to your knees at his feet and fisted the fabric of his sweatpants, hoping it would stop him from just deciding to kick you.

"Dean what's going on?" you heard Sam's voice from the other end of the room.

"It's fine, Sammy. She's just upset. I've got it." Dean said. There was no response from Sam, who had probably nodded and left back to his room.

All you could think of was the feeling of Dean's belt cracking against your skin. You could practically feel the sting of the leather digging into your arms, legs, back, butt, face, everywhere.

"Whoa, hey, hey!" Dean moved his arms, and positive that that was the exact punishment he had in mind, you panicked and reached up to put your hands on his belt to stop him from reaching for it.

            Every time you called him by name, you were punished. Sometimes he was kind enough to just force you to give him oral sex instead of beating you, but only if he was feeling extra generous that day.

"Please, don't hurt me!" You cried as you covered the buckle with your hand. "I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want. Tell me what to do, please sir! I'll make it better! I'm so sorry!" Tears streamed down your face as you begged.

"Y/N! Y/N, listen to me!" he grabbed both of your wrists in one of his, pulling them away from his belt and knelt down in front of you. With his free hand, he grasped your shoulder firmly. "Listen to me. Wherever you are right now, it's not real. I'm not going to hurt you Y/N. I need you to focus." Dean lifted the hand that was on your shoulder and used it to push the hair out of your face as he tried to get you to look at him.

"Hey, hey" he soothed, "You're right here. You're in the bunker with me and Sammy. I'm right here, okay? Look at me, Y/N". Still pinning your wrists in the other hand, he tilted your chin up towards him. "Look at me, honey".

Trying to sniff away the tears, you nervously peeked up at him. His eyes were green, and he didn't look angry. He looked worried.

"See? It's alright. No one's going to hurt you, sweetheart." he said, keeping his eyes locked with yours. "Now, what was that all about?" he asked, a slight tinge of annoyance in his voice.

"I'm s-s-sorry. I said... I didn't mean to." you stammered out.

"Didn't mean to what?" as he finished his sentence, it dawned on him what had happened and his stomach sank. His name, the belt, all of it.

"Y/N" he said, trying to keep his voice from sounding too annoyed. "Don't _ever_ beg or apologize to me again, you hear me?"

His words came out so much like an order that you were afraid to disobey him.

"Yes, sir" you said, without fully thinking about what he was trying to tell you.

Dean let out an exasperated sigh and you began whimpering and struggling against him as you saw him reach down to the floor to pick up the knife.

"Whoa, whoa, hey" he said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just saw... It looked like you were-" Quickly he scanned the skin on your arms and legs, checking for something. He let out another sigh. "Never mind... Hey, it's okay".

            As your sobbing quieted and you stared at each other, the awkwardness you'd felt earlier began to return. The atmosphere became tense in a way that you couldn't explain. As your eyes shifted, his followed them as they moved to the grip he had on your wrists. Immediately, as if he had forgotten he was holding you, he released your hands. Clearing his throat to break the silence, he stood up and offered out a hand to help you up, which you hesitantly took.

"Well, you should probably get some sleep." he said as he turned to leave.

"Sir-" you stopped yourself by throwing a hand up to your mouth, and he paused to look at your curiously.

"I... Um... Never mind, sorry." you said meekly.

He stared at you for a moment with a sad expression before hardening his gaze.

"What did I say about apologizing?" he said.

_What. Did. I. Say. About. Saying. My. Name._

Whimpering, you took a small step back, dangerously close to going back over the edge.

"Hey- shit. I didn't mean it like that, alright?" he said. "Just... If you have something to say, say it". The way he said that wasn't really any more comforting than before, and he saw the fear in your eyes. Closing his for a moment, he took a deep breath to calm himself and try again.

"I mean... You should speak your mind, Y/N. I don't want you to be afraid of doing that." he said, forcing a gentler tone.

            "D-demons are souls that were tortured... in hell. And they eventually become twisted, right? So, did you go to hell? And how to you have your original body? I-I'm not sure I understand." It all poured out of you at once, and you took another step back, locking your eyes to the floor. These were things that you'd read in the books from the library, as well as what Dean had taught you, and it just didn't add up.

Dean sighed and ran his hand over his mouth before walking over towards you and sitting in the cushioned chair adjacent to the one you usually sat in. He poured a drink for both of you and gestured for you to sit down.

"See this?" he said, holding out his arm to reveal the mark as you sat down in your chair. He looked at you to make sure you were listening. "This is the Mark of Cain." He spent the next few minutes explaining how and why he had gotten the mark, and the effects it had on him.

"When I died... The mark wouldn't let me die. It brought me back as a demon. That's why I said what I said when you came into my room that one night. If I die again, the same thing will happen... again... And I'll hurt you.

Staring at the drink that you were spinning slowly in your hands, you hesitated but forced yourself to speak.

"So you... You've never been to hell?" you asked.

Dean smiled a bit and shook his head.

"No, I have." He said, and told you briefly about going to selling his soul and being stuck in Hell, and later, Purgatory. He left out details of what had happened in those places though; anything he'd done or had done to him.

"A-and the mark? Now that you're human again, is it still...?"

"It still craves blood. I still have to kill to satisfy it or I'll-... I'll lose control... Eventually it will turn me back into a demon again, if I can't find a cure." he explained, rubbing the mark with his hand as he spoke. "I'm dangerous, Y/N. And damn it, you shouldn't be around me. You shouldn't have to deal with this crap. I should have never-" he stopped, closing his eyes at some unknown memory.

"How many?" you asked, breaking Dean out of his thoughts as he looked over at you.

"How many what?" he asked. Uncomfortable under his intense gaze you had to look away while you continued.

"How many... While you were a demon, or... How many others did you-?" _How many girls like me did you kidnap and torture, or even kill?_ It was too hard to say out loud.

"How many people did I kill? Or how many-"

"How many girls like me did you take and torture?" You interrupted, a surprising level of bitterness seeping past your lips, and Dean winced a little at your words.

Dean stared at you for a long moment before answering.

"Just you." he said. At your silence, he continued. "I uh, wasn't a demon for more than a few months... I spent the first part with that dick Crowley mostly. Drinking, hooking up with random chicks, and killing other demons that wanted me dead."

_How many people did you kill just for fun? If you didn't take me here and leave me, what would you have done with me? Killed me? Kept me? If you weren't cured would you have taken, fucked, and broken girl after girl just for the hell of it? More importantly, you were a demon, but you weren't possessed, so it wasn't someone else. Does that mean that person, or monster, is a part of who you are inside?...If I didn't miscarry and were still pregnant... What would have happened? Would you have left me with it alone?_ These were all things you wanted to know, but you didn't know how to ask them. There was only one thing you could bring yourself to ask, and it was extremely difficult to get out.

"D-....D-do you... r-remember..um-" _Do you remember everything you did to me?_ You finished in your head.

"Every second." he said firmly. He wasn't crying but his eyes looked wet, and were completely loaded with guilt and sadness as he stared off blankly with his drink in hand.

For the rest of the morning until the sun rose and Sam, the early riser, woke up, you sat there together. Dean told a few stories, but mostly it was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback please! Thanks for sticking with me! New chapter will be up soon! <3


	38. My Responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at doing Dean's POV. I've been wanting to since the beginning but I am so scared to not do him justice. Please let me know what you think and if there should be more from his POV in the future! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            **Dean's POV  
**

 

Sam and Dean were on their way home from their latest hunt. Things didn't exactly go as expected. The hunt itself went smoothly, but when Dean shot the werewolf, something inside him began to take over. He shot her corpse over and over, unloading his entire round into her already dead body. He just felt so much rage, and the kill just felt so good, he couldn't control himself. Sam noticed and tried to ask Dean about it but Dean insisted that nothing was wrong and he was just excited to be back in the game. The conversation ended there but the tension in the air between them was undeniable.

            Dean knew that the mark was responsible, that it was making him angrier, more dangerous. But he had to maintain control. Taking the mark was his choice, and this was _his_ cross to bear. He had already caused enough damage, and he didn't want to bring anyone else into his mess. If anyone was going to help him, it would have to be him and no one else.

            As they entered the bunker, an amazing smell hit Dean's nostrils.

 _Food,_ he thought excitedly, momentarily forgetting about the incident that happened earlier that night. He followed the smell into the kitchen, and there he saw Y/N pulling a hot tray of delicious smelling baked chicken out of the oven. She was wearing an white apron over her black tank top and jeans. Her back was to him, and he noticed the "DW" branded on her right shoulder blade. The sight of it, and remembering what he did to her pained him beyond imagining. What's even worse was that there was some small part of him that... _liked_ that it was there, and he hated himself for that.

 _What kind of fucked up psycho thinks like that?_ he thought, disgusted with himself. He was also still extremely ashamed from the other night when she said his name and nearly died of fright thinking he was going to beat her again. The way she cried and pleaded with him desperately broke his heart. The most embarrassing part about that night though, was that he almost got hard seeing her on her knees like that, grasping at his belt.

 _God, what is wrong with me?_ But when it happened, he couldn't help but remember the feeling of her mouth around him, and the sound of her muffled moans.

When she saw him staring at her she froze for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to run away. But after a moment, she carefully set the tray down and removed her oven mitts.

"I-I um... I made you guys dinner. If... if that's okay..." she quietly stammered as she stared warily at Dean.

 _She panics every time she sees me,_ Dean thought sadly, just wishing that he could make her understand that he would _never_ hurt her again. That demon... That _wasn't_ him damn it! _But she has every reason to think that, and no reason to trust me,_ Dean reasoned, sighing inwardly. _What I did to her was unforgivable. If I met a man who did what I did to a woman, I would cut his fucking heart out._

"Y/N, you are awesome!" he said enthusiastically. "I am _starving_!"

            After Sam and Dean finished unloading their gear from the impala, they sat down at the table with a couple of beers. Y/N emerged from the kitchen with plates loaded with chicken and baked beans. It looked glorious. Dean hadn't had a proper home-cooked meal that he hadn't made himself in ages. She set a plate down in front of Sam, who smiled and thanked her graciously before digging in.

            When she meekly approached Dean with his plate and set it in front of him, he gave her an appreciative smile, after which she averted her eyes and scurried away back into the kitchen to retrieve her own food. She returned and sat next to Sam across the table from Dean. He was glad and not surprised that she found comfort in Sam, but he was a little jealous at the same time. He hated knowing that she was so damn terrified of him that she couldn't even get close without almost having a panic attack.

            The food was delicious and Dean eagerly ate every last bite. Once he was finished, he took his plate and went into the kitchen. Y/N was there by the sink with her back to him washing the dishes. There it was. His raised initials burned into her skin. The scars on her arms and neck were already turning white with permanence, except for one small cut he'd noticed earlier that was definitely new. It was small and could have been caused a number of ways so he didn't think much of it.

            Dean quickly moved up next to her and set his plate down on the counter by the sink. When Y/N saw him, her eyes went wide, she let out a small squeak, and dropped the glass in her hand. It landed with a thud into the soapy water so it thankfully didn't break. Regaining her composure, but the tenseness never leaving her body, she carefully picked up Dean's plate to begin washing it.

"I-I hope it tasted okay... I haven't cook in a while." she said. Her voice was so timid, so damn fearful. Like she was expecting him to start screaming at her and beating the life out of her.

 _That's exactly what she expects,_ he reminded himself bitterly.

"No, it was great." he said, trying to smile through the guilt.

            He was drawn to the burn on her skin as he stood and watched her work. Her entire body was in flight mode, prepared to run at the first sign of trouble. She always looked so fragile. He just wanted to pull her into his arms and protect her from all of her fears, but he _was_ her fear. He reached up with one hand, wanting to run his fingers over his initials, but stopped himself a hairs breadth away.

            She deserved to live a happy life, away from all of this. It was his fault that she couldn't and he was determined to do whatever it took to give that to her. Today the mark almost took over. He killed, not because he had to, but because he thirsted for it. He wanted it, needed it, relished it. Sooner or later, it was going to change him completely. He would go after her, Sam, Castiel, anyone he cared about would be just another victim to bleed. Food for the mark. _That's_ why he was teaching her. _That's_ why she needed to know how to kill him.

_She's my responsibility._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! Any feedback and opinions are welcome! <3 New chapter soon!


	39. Catching Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did some POV switching here. Lots of experimenting. Tell me what you think!

**Reader's POV**

 

            When you went out into the library for your usual lessons, Dean was standing near the table waiting for you. He had a duffle bag over his shoulder and a dark, serious look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and caused you to stop in your tracks. He looked you up and down as if sizing you up before his eyes softened a bit, but only for a moment before returning to their steely abrasiveness.

            "Follow me." he said gruffly as he turned and without looking back, walked to a door leading out of the library. You quickly fell into line behind him, not wanting to disobey his orders, but still keeping your distance. Following him, he went down a set of stairs and another hallway that lead into an area of the bunker you hadn't explored yet. You'd never realized how big this place really was until now as you followed Dean down various corridors. You felt extremely isolated and vulnerable as Dean brought you deeper into the bunker, briefly wondering if this was some kind of trap.

            Dean stopped in front of one of the doors and opened it, standing back as he held it and waited for your to enter. Part of you wanted to back away, to turn and run, but the cold authoritative look in Dean's eyes was enough to make you do whatever you needed to please him, whether it be from pure fear or something else. As you entered the room, he followed behind, switching on the lights as he came. The room seemed a bit unusual. It was shaped almost like a hallway, with another door to your left. On your right was what looked like a long counter that looked out into a much bigger room, and at the end was a lineup of the mannequins form the waist up... no, practice dummies. It only took you a moment to realize what was going on.

It was a shooting range.

**________________________**

**Dean's POV**

            Dean wasn't sure if Y/N was ready for this step, but if she was going to be prepared to survive on her own, she had to start eventually. There was no use delaying the inevitable. He was originally going to take her to the empty gym for melee combat and self-defense but the physical contact required for that would surely be way too much for her right now, so he settled for the shooting range instead. She followed him without question, and he wasn't sure if that should surprise him or not. She didn't say a word as she entered the room and scanned it with her always alert eyes.

            Dean slammed and locked the door behind them, and as he did, she just about leapt out of her skin as she swung around to face him. She was so scared and helpless, he could do anything he wanted to her right now. That thought alone made Dean feel like a sick bastard as he quickly shook away the idea. Dropping the duffle bag on a table against the left wall, he unzipped it and pulled out a small pistol, checking to make sure it was loaded. He handed it, handle first, over to her and she stared at it like it might bite her.

            Dean let out a sigh and took off his button up shirt, setting it on the table with the bag so that he was only wearing his black t-shirt. He walked with the gun over to the edge of the shooting range, held it up, aimed, and fired three rounds into one of the practice dummies; two in the chest, one in the head. Turning to look at Y/N, she had her eyes closed and both hands over her ears as stood, facing the corner. Her body was shaking. Dean closed his eyes in frustration, but not anger, and waited for her to calm down and look back at him. When she did, he reached out again to hand her the gun and she took it with trembling hands.

**______________________**

**Reader's POV**

 

"Do you remember how to use it?" he asked, his eyes boring into you as he waited for an answer.

"Y-yes, I think so." you said shyly, flicking the safety off and then on before awaiting next order.

"Well, go on. Show me." he said, stepping back so you had room to take your spot at the range.

            As you did, Dean instructed you on how to stand and how to aim down the sights. You were still shaking as you raised the gun, took a deep breath, and fired once down the range, closing your eyes at the last second. It was _loud,_ really loud. Your ears were ringing. Looking at the dummy, you didn't see any new holes, and it was obvious you'd missed horribly.

            Raising the gun again, you aimed down the sights like he'd told you to do, but your hands wouldn't stop trembling. A moment later, you felt Dean standing directly behind you.  His chest was brushing against your back and he reached around, taking your hands in his. It took everything you had not to crumple to the floor in hysteria as the intoxicating and familiar smell of his musk filled your senses his warm  firm body pressed up against you from behind. The feeling was a confusing mix of fear and security all at once. He leaned forward, his stubble covered cheek touching the skin just behind your ear.

"Breathe." He whispered into your ear, and you let out a shaky breath, not having realized that you hadn't been breathing this entire time.

"You need to hold it steady, like this." He said, firmly gripping your hands so that the gun stopped shaking.

            "Breathe." he said again. As you exhaled he pressed his finger over yours, pulling the trigger and a loud shot fired down range. If he wasn't holding you, you would have jumped to the ceiling. The shot hit the dummy directly in the forehead. He stayed, holding you in place as he helped you fire another shot, which also hit. After the second shot, he released you, stepping back to give you back your space and taking the gun with him. Even though you were breathing again, it felt colder without him and even though you would never admit it to yourself because it just didn't make any sense, you missed his warmth.

He reloaded the gun and made sure it was ready to go before handing it back to you.

"Try again." he ordered and watched you carefully.

            This time, you managed not to shake as much, but it was still difficult to aim properly. Out of five shots you hit the dummy twice in the abdomen. It wasn't where you were aiming, but you felt a little good knowing you at least managed to hit _something._ Dean decided to call that enough for the day.

"You'll get better." he said firmly. Afterwards, he sat you down and instructed you on taking apart and cleaning the gun, and quizzed you on the different kinds of bullets that affect different monsters.

You were finally getting better at tolerating Dean's presence and controlling your flashbacks to a certain degree. It wasn't even close to okay, and you still couldn't figure out if you wanted to kill him, run away from him, or sleep with him, but at least you weren't practically peeing yourself every time he breathed which was a good thing.... _I think._

**_____________________**

**Dean's POV**

 

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ Dean thought to himself as he sat down on his bed and grabbed his headphones, which were blaring Bob Seger's "Beautiful Loser".

_I'm supposed to be teaching her how to kill assholes like me, not catching feelings or checking out her ass!_

_You really think she would EVER be with you again? Even if hell freezes over and she let you, it would just be a really fucked up case of Stockholm syndrome. You killed her family, took her from her home, stole her virginity. You ruined her idea of intimacy. You hurt her, you bled her, you burned her, you scarred her and worse than that... you liked it. You liked every minute of it and part of you would love to see her on her knees at your mercy again._

Dean laid back on the bed, his music blaring in his ears.

_She hates me and she damn well should. Shit, I hate me._

_...Maybe._

_No! Son of a bitch... I need to stop._

_She deserves someone who will love her and care for her and give her the world. She deserves someone better than me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked!  
> Feedback! <3 New chapter soon!


	40. Remission and Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at the reader's sleepless nights through Dean's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

**Dean's POV**

 

            Dean stood in the dark, leaning against the wall that stood between his and Y/N's bedrooms. His eyes were closed as he listened to her whimpers and cries like he did every single night. Her nightmares weren't getting any better, and he knew exactly what she was dreaming about. He knew that the face she saw glaring down at her as she screamed and cried was his face. It took every ounce of strength Dean had not to rush in and wake her from them, tell her everything was okay and kiss away all of her tears. But he knew better.

            All he could do was listen... Listen to her suffer at his own hands, and wait for her panic to finally jolt her awake. After which, she would get up and go to the library. Sometimes she would stay only a few minutes, and other times she would be sitting there all night. The one time he chose to follow her, he only served to damage her more by scaring the hell out of her. When he saw her tracing the knife against her skin, he stopped thinking and simply ran in.

_I was wrong though. It just looked like..._ He imagined her slicing away at herself, deciding she'd had enough and just checking out. _And it would be my fault._

Dean remained silent as he listened to her footsteps creeping down the hallway.

* * *

**Reader's POV**

 

_Another day, another nightmare. Always the same._ Sitting in your favorite chair, you had a glass of whiskey in one hand and your knife in the other. You'd had a little more to drink than average and though you weren't anywhere near drunk, you felt a significant lowering of your inhibitions. Finishing the small sip that was left in your glass, you set it down on the table next to you and leaned back in the chair, relaxing into it.

            It didn't make sense, the way you'd felt with him at the gun range. He terrified you, haunted your dreams, and made you feel so unbelievably weak. But your mind kept shifting back to the moment when he had his arms around you, helping you steady your hands to take a shot. The feeling of his warm body pressed against you, and his breath tickling your ear. You yearned for it, _craved_ it, like nothing you've ever craved before.

            Reaching your hand over your shoulder, you ran your fingers over the raised scarring of the brand, absently wondering what it would be like to be his. Not the demon's. Not the monster that killed for the thrill. But Dean's Winchester's. The man who cried with you when you tried to kill him, and when you couldn't take it anymore. The man who held you and comforted instead of hurting you when you called him by his name. The only man who's intimacy you'd ever felt, and now craved even though it made no sense. The man who saved you from those demons, and took you home... _home._ _home? This isn't home. This is... This is a prison. This is a fallout shelter for me to hide from the outside world. This is someone else's home._

_"An easy target."_

_"Because it was fun."_

_"You're more damaged than I am"_

Almost laughing out loud a small bitter smile crossed your lips.

_He's right._

Removing your hand from your back, you went back to examining the knife in your other hand. You remembered the feelings you got last time. You also remembered the shame, and didn't want to relive that. Grabbing the fabric on your pant leg, you pulled and revealed part of your thigh that wouldn't usually be revealed anyway. Without letting yourself think too much about it, you slid the blade up your skin, quickly so as not to feel too much pain but still get the desired result.

            The tingling sensation returned. The crimson red liquid began to seep through the opening. There was something just so fascinating about it. You could never explain why, but it felt good. There was almost a high that came with it, along with that feeling of total control that you thought you'd lost forever after meeting Dean. After a moment, you repeated the action once more, next to it and enjoyed the same effect.

            Feeling unnaturally peaceful as you watched the blood trickle out of the wounds, and just sat there, feeling the feelings, you got an idea. Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you lifted it almost high enough to expose your breasts but not quite. There it was. The word "SLUT" carved into your skin across your sternum. You traced the letters with your finger and for a second there you almost changed your mind, deciding to let it be.

            But then the sour taste of bitterness returned filled your senses as you thought of Dean and what he must think of you, as well as the pity in both his and Sam's eyes every time they saw you. Raising the knife to just before where the letters began, you braced yourself for a deeper cut, one that might hurt a little beyond the tingling. Like removing a band aid, you roughly dragged the knife over your skin, carving a line directly across the word Dean had labeled on you forever. This one did hurt more. That area of your body was much more sensitive than your arm or leg. But seeing the result, and achieving that same feeling that you were seeking, negated whatever momentary pain you felt.  

            For the next hour or so, you sat just staring at your handiwork, letting the sensations drift over your skin. Once you finally decided to move, you'd had no idea how much time had passed. It was much longer than you'd thought because when you got back to your room, the clock said 5:30am. When you went back to sleep, the nightmares didn't return for the rest of the morning, and that was all you needed.

 

* * *

**Dean's POV  
**

            "Dean..." Y/N moaned softly as he pinned her to the wall and trailed wet kisses down her neck. He crashed his lips into hers and she returned the kiss passionately. Her lips were soft as they pressed against his with need. Dean lightly brushed his tongue across her lower lip, requesting entry, and she obliged, parting her lips to let him in. Their tongues danced together as her small hands slid over the muscles on his chest. Reaching his arms around her and gripping her thighs, he lifted and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She ran her hand through the back of his hair as he carried her towards to the bed. She clenched her fingers, gripping him tightly, which sent an intense wave of pleasure coursing through Dean.

"I need you, Y/N" He said huskily as he lay her on the bed and crawled on top of her, he legs still wrapped around him.

Out of nowhere, her lust blown eyes widened with terror as she stared at him.

"Please! Why Dean?" She gasped in pain.

Dean looked down to see the First Blade buried in her midsection with his hand on the hilt. Blood was all over both of them, and the Mark of Cain burned red hot.

" _There is no resisting the mark or the blade. There is only remission and relapse!"_ Cain's voice boomed inside Dean's skull as he watched the life slip from Y/N's eyes.

______________

Dean shot up in bed, his fists clenched, and grey shirt drenched in sweat. Quickly looking down at his body, there was no blood. The room was dark and he was alone.

_A dream,_ he realized, as he sat there breathing heavily. The Mark of Cain was red and burning with hunger. Dean ran a hand down his face, just so tired of it all. He got out of bed and headed straight to the shower, hoping that Sammy had found a case for them to work. He really _needed_ to kill something.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! Tell me what you think! I'm already working on the next chapter!  
> Also, don't hesitate to tell me what you'd like to see. I love ideas!


	41. Troubles Always Catch Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out that neither Dean, nor the reader can leave their troubles in the past that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

* * *

 

**Dean's POV**

            Dean collapsed on the motel bed with a beer in his hand, while Sam sat in the chair by the window on his laptop. They had just spent the last 24 hours hunting what turned out to be a ghost in Greeley, Colorado, and in the morning would begin their trip back to the bunker. The Mark of Cain hadn't been sated and Dean was feeling on edge as he sat, rubbing his arm through the fabric of his flannel shirt.   
"So, it uh, seems like you and Y/N are getting along a bit better." Sam commented casually.

"Yeah, we're just like freaking Baby and Johnny." Dean said sarcastically. "Except instead of dancing, I'm teaching her how to kill demons, and instead of a sexy dance instructor, I'm her Freddy Krueger. We're _really_ hitting it off." Dean took another drink of his beer.

Sam tilted his head and gave Dean a serious look. "Ha, but really Dean.  I mean at first she couldn't even look at you and now you're eating at the same table, and... I don't know... She's visually improving. That's, that's _something_ is all I'm saying." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah Sammy, I didn't turn her into a _total_ basket case. Cheers to that. Call in a damn parade." Dean said, raising his beer without looking at Sam who shook his head and went back to whatever he was doing on his laptop.

"Dean, you might want to come look at this." Sam said urgently, staring at the computer screen like he had just watched Lassie die.

Dean got up off the bed and went over to the table, sitting across from Sam. Sam turned the laptop to face him so he could see what was on the screen. Sam clicked on a blue link in a message window in the middle of the screen.

A video appeared and Dean almost dropped his beer.

It was Y/N, from the day she was captured by Crowley's demons.

_The sick fucks videotaped it,_ Dean thought in horror as he watched Y/N being brutally beaten and gang-raped.

"What the fuck is this scumbag trying to pull?" Dean said, disgusted.

"I don't know." Sam said, shrugging his shoulders, his eyebrows knitted together. "There was no message or anything attached to it... Maybe, he's just trying to get under your skin?"

"Well it fuckin' worked. I'm going to hunt down and kill that bottom-feeding son of a bitch if it's the last thing I do." Dean said, slamming the laptop shut and angrily pacing across the room.

"And how are we going to find him, Dean? He's just some random demon who's name we don't even know." Sam said, trying to reason Dean out of doing something rash.

"I don't know! We'll find Crowley and make that son of a bitch talk!" Dean yelled.

"We don't even know if Crowley _knows_ about this-"

"Then what Sammy? As long as he's out there, Y/N will never be safe. Are you saying we just leave him be?" Dean snapped.

"No, that, that's not what I'm saying, Dean. I just mean we need to be rational about this, not just go out half-cocked in a random direction and hope we just happen to find him standing on the side of the road." Sam said, keeping his voice calm to counter Dean's rage.

"Shit!" Dean spat as he rubbed his hand down over his mouth, trying to figure out what to do next.

"You know we have to tell Y/N about this. It's only right we don't keep her in the dark." Sam said.

"The hell we do! She's been through enough already, and you seriously want to dump more crap on her? She's one step from the edge already! What do you think this is going to do to her, Sammy?" Dean yelled.

"I know, I know" Sam said, raising both hands in surrender. "But Dean, she deserves to know what's going on."

" _We_ don't even know what's going on!" Dean said. "If he's trying to screw with us, showing her this is just going to give him exactly what he wants!"

"Alright" Sam said. "I'm just saying we should _think_ about telling her, that's all."

"I'm going for some air." Dean said, grabbing his jacket and car keys before going out the motel door.

Dean was never going to tell Sam how badly the mark was affecting him, but he _needed_ to satiate it and needed to do it now. He got in his car and went off to find himself a suitable douche bag, if he had to summon a demon himself.

* * *

**Reader's POV**

            When Sam and Dean returned from their hunt, something seemed a bit off about the way they were acting. Dean hadn't so much as looked at you when he came in and ended up taking his dinner into his room to eat. Sam, while not avoiding you entirely, seemed a little shifty and uncomfortable in your presence. He kept all conversation short, and refused to look you in the eye since they had gotten back. Occasionally you would catch him glancing up at you from his laptop, shifting his eyes away again quickly every time you looked in his direction.

"Sam?" You asked, sitting a few chairs away from him at the long table where you were studying one of the many lore books.

"Hmm? Yeah, uh." Sam said, running a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "What's up?"

"Is something the matter?" You asked. Sam, his hand still on the back of his head, shifted his gaze around as if he was searching for an escape.

"No, um, I uh, what do you mean?" He said, increasing your suspicions.

"I-I don't know. Just, you seem... I don't know. Did something happen?" you said.

Sam sighed, lowering his hand and scratching his chin before moving it back to the laptop keyboard.

"Look Y/N... Nothing happened so don't worry. It's just... Dean wasn't comfortable telling you. He didn't think it was a good idea considering what you've been through. But it involves you, and I don't feel right keeping you in the dark, so..." Sam's voice drifted off as he shifted in his seat.

"What is it?" you asked, your chest growing heavy with curiosity, concern, and a little bit of fear.

            Sam started doing something on his laptop, and after a moment he sighed again before sliding it towards you. As you reached out and pulled it in front of you, you saw a blue link in a message box in the middle of the screen. Looking at Sam, he shot you a worried look before he leaned forward and rested with his arms crossed on the table. The anticipation of what you were about to find was overwhelming, and the way Sam had looked at you made you even more fearful of what it might be. You were pretty sure at this point that you didn't want to know, but your curiosity won that round.

            Clinking on the link, you saw a video pop up on the screen. It took you a few seconds to realize what you were seeing as you squinted at the screen. Your eyes widened and your hand shot up to cover your mouth. There were no words for how you were feeling as you watched the video of those monsters having their way with you. All you could do was shake your head over and over again as your eyes glued to the screen.

_No, no, no, no, no!_ Not only had Sam and Dean seen this, but all of the smells, the sounds, the feelings, the fear, everything from that event came flooding back to you all at once.

            "Hey..." Sam said as he began to get up from his chair to come and comfort you. Instead of letting him, you quickly shut the laptop, got up and, hand still over your mouth, you began to run. Dean was standing next to the wall at the edge of the hallway, and he watched you as you ran by out of the room and up the stairs to the exit of the bunker.

            "Y/N!" you heard Sam call after you, but ignored it. Reaching the large metal door, you pulled it open and ran outside. It wasn't quite dark yet, but the sun was beginning to set. With no destination, and no clue what your plan was, you just kept running. You weren't even sure what you were running from, just that you wanted desperately to get away; like if you ran hard and far enough you could escape reality as well as your own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! New chapter soon! <3 <3


	42. Firefly Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes after the reader ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

* * *

**DEAN'S POV**

 

            "I told you not to tell her damn it!" Dean shouted at Sam as he threw his jacket on and prepared to chase after Y/N.

"She needed to know, Dean." Sam reasoned. "I thought we could talk to her, work out a plan on what to do next. I didn't know she would just take off like that." Sam looked guilty as he stood with his hands in his pockets, watching Dean shove his keys into his pocket.

"Well that clearly went about as well as I expected. You stay here." he said, pointing at Sam who was moving to follow him. "I'm going to get her." He bounded up the stairs to the door.

**________________**

_Shit shit shit,_ Dean thought as he drove down the road, slower than usual so that he could keep an eye out in case Y/N left the road. _I can't keep doing this. If I don't get her killed, she's going to get herself killed!_ He kept thinking about what happened the last time she ran off alone. That was his fault too.

            Luckily he didn't have to drive too far before he spotted her walking along the side of the black asphalt. She was walking quickly, like she was still trying to get away but simply couldn't continue running anymore. Dean swerved to the side of the road and parked the car a few feet behind her. She noticed him without looking back and began to run again. Dean jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

"Y/N!" She ignored him and kept going.

"Y/N! Hey! Wait will you?" he shouted as he began to chase after her. "Damn it!"

He caught up to her easily, but she kept going. Dean grabbed her by the arm to stop her and a loud sob escaped from her lips.

"Hey, hey! Damn it, Y/N just stop!" he yelled. The anger in his voice caused her to stop struggling and freeze in place.

Dean pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. She whimpered at the contact but she didn't struggle or pull away.

_She's so cold,_ he thought as he felt her icy skin against his hands.

"It's okay" he said more calmly as he rested his chin on top of her head as he held her tightly.

"No one's going to hurt you, sweetheart." he said. She didn't say anything in response, but to say Dean was shocked was an understatement as he felt her nuzzle herself deeper into his embrace. The smallest smile forced its way onto his lips and he stood there, holding her, protecting her against the cold.

"Alright" he said leaning back from her a bit so she could look up at him. Her face was streaked with tears and her nose and cheeks were red from the cold. "Now, the safest place for you is the bunker, so... So that's where you're going to stay... with me and Sammy. We're going to protect you. And later, we're going to kill that demonic son of a bitch who hurt you, okay?"

Y/N nodded slightly as she sniffed and rubbed her nose. Dean sighed with relief and took off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. He kept an arm around her as he guided her back to the impala.

* * *

**READER'S POV**

            You were probably more surprised than Dean was when you pressed deeper into him as he held you. Maybe you were just trying to escape the cold, but for some reason, you felt so comfortable in his arms at that moment. His reassuring words made you feel safe. For a moment, Dean didn't scare you. He didn't make you want to run away or worry that he might hurt you. You felt like he was there to protect you. In a million years, you'd never imagined yourself wrapped up in his coat, willingly getting into that car. But that's exactly what you did.

            Sam gaped at the two of you as you followed Dean into the bunker, he had one arm around you and one of your hands was clinging to the back of his shirt. Staring down at the floor as you let Dean lead you, you couldn't let yourself make eye contact with Sam; knowing that he had seen the video of you.

"Heya Sammy what do you say we take the night off, get some pizza and binge watch  us some Netflix, huh??" Dean said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly.

Sam went out to pick up a pizza, some more beer, and a pie for Dean, while Dean sat with you at the table in the library and poured you both a drink. He explained what happened and how they received the video from an unknown source after their last hunt.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." he said. "It's my fault that son of a bitch got away. I should've killed every last one of them. It's on me and I'm sorry."

So badly, you wanted to reach out and touch his hand; you wanted to comfort him. But part of you still feared the demon he was when you met him.

_Why is this so damn confusing? So damn complicated..._

When Sam returned with the groceries, all three of you gathered into Sam's bedroom.

Dean went to Netflix on the television and put on the show _Firefly._

            Sam sat in his desk chair and you sat next to Dean on Sam's bed. Whether it was because of your mood or because having Sam there made you feel safer, having Dean next to you only made you _slightly_ uncomfortable, but at the same time you wanted to stay close to him. The discomfort quickly dissipated as the show drew your attention, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like a normal person again, just watching television with "friends". It was nice, and you enjoyed listening to Sam and Dean's occasional commentary. For a little while, you'd almost forgotten about the video. _Almost._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I figured instead of making you guys wait MORE, I'll just add rest of what I had planned to the beginning of the next chapter. Tell me what you thought! <3
> 
> Side Note: SUPERNATURAL SEASON 12 AM I RIGHT?! WOOO! <3


	43. Combat and Resistance Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader doesn't want to be alone. And it's time to continue her training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

 

* * *

 

  **Reader's POV  
**

           Dean walked you to your room, since you still had yet to leave his side after he picked you up on the road.

"Well, uh. We should probably pick up your training tomorrow. That is, if that's still what you want?" He said as you both stood in the doorway of your room, and you nodded at him.

Dean looked down at you with a soft, but otherwise unreadable expression. "You know uh, we could always just get you a new name, set you up with a place somewhere far away, get you a fresh start away from all of this. It might be safer, I don't know."

Staring at the ground shamefully, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

_And what happens if that demon finds me? What happens when any demon finds me? I..._

            "I... don't want to be alone..." You said in the smallest voice, almost too quiet for Dean to hear. After the words slipped out, you immediately felt embarrassed. You waited for Dean to laugh, or to say something along the lines of "You just have to deal with it." But he didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. There was pity or guilt in his eyes, you couldn't decide which. He smiled a little and turned to leave, and immediately you did something that shocked you beyond belief, and made you feel weaker than ever.

            You grabbed him by the shirt to stop him from leaving. He stopped and turned to look at you surprise and anticipation on his face. Opening your mouth to speak, you tried to figure out what to say but no words would make it past your lips.

_What the hell am I doing?_ you wondered. Your face heated from the embarrassment of being so vulnerable and on the spot, while Dean stared at you, waiting patiently for whatever it was you wanted to say.

_I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be scared. I don't want to think. I don't want to have anymore nightmares._

"S-stay...?" you whispered , and you almost choked on the word as you felt tears start brimming in your eyes, but you refused to let them escape. His eyes widened with shock before it was replaced by what looked like a broken kind of pain.

Letting go of Dean's shirt, you took a hesitant step back, thinking that maybe you could just turn around and go back to bed, and erase this moment from having happened. Dean caught your hand as you tried to pull it away.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, searching your eyes.

"...No." you whispered, and Dean simply stood there, not knowing what to do.

"Please." you added just as quietly, a traitorous tear falling down your cheek.

            Dean looked as if his soul had been shattered. For a moment, you felt a wave of bitterness at knowing how pathetic he must see you, how much he must pity you. But the bitterness couldn't outweigh your desperation. You needed him. As fucked up as that may have been, nothing scared you more right now than being alone, and Dean's warmth and protection was all that you craved... Even if it _was_ out of pity like you'd assumed.

            "Y/N" Dean said softly, before simply nodding at you and following you into the room and over to your bed. Dean sat up against the headboard and put his arm around you as you curled up next to him and rested your head on the crook of his arm. The whole thing felt strange, and for a moment, you had to fight back a wave of panic as the whole situation threatened to trigger you. But instead of pulling away in fear, you gripped his shirt with your fist and clung to him tighter, sealing your eyes shut as he rested his own head atop yours and held you there in his arms. He ran his fingers gently up and down your arm in a slow and soothing manner, and you could feel his warm breath in your hair.

             The way he touched you was so gentle, so careful, as if he was afraid to break you, which you already knew he could. Everything about it was the exact opposite of what he was like when he was a demon. The smell of his musk was the same though, unchanged. But instead of bringing you pain, it brought you comfort in a way that you couldn't explain. There was something about having the man who had broken you apart and ruined you so entirely, showing you tenderness and affection. To add even more to the feeling that you were pathetic, you were reminded of a dog that had been beaten by its owner so often, yet would crawl, whining and tail wagging, back to him. He would vie for any small show of kindness that he could get from his beloved master.

_He did say I was his bitch... How literal that turned out to be,_ you thought, disgusted with yourself.

_Damaged. Broken. That's me,_ you told yourself as you lay there, loving every moment of Dean's affection like it was the only thing in the whole universe that could make you whole.

The nightmares didn't come that night, and you made no midnight trips to the library.

**____________________**

            When you awoke in the morning, you felt more rested than you had in weeks. Reaching out your arm in search of the warmth you fell asleep in, you found only a cold pillow. Dean was gone. Getting up, you went to the bathroom to shower and mentally prepare yourself for the promised combat training with Dean today.

_Dean isn't the enemy right now. Dean won't hurt me._

_I have to do this. I have to learn. I want to be strong._

_I want him to see that I can be strong._

            You wrapped your wet hair in a towel and changed into sweat shorts and a black tank top before  heading out down the hall. As you stepped into the kitchen, you saw Dean was there with two plates in his hand.

            "Oh hey. I uh, thought you might be hungry, so I made some bacon and eggs." He said, setting a plate on the island counter in front of an empty stool. "Sam already ate his hippie rabbit food, so yeah." he said as he sat down in front of his own plate and began to eat. Carefully creeping forward, you pulled yourself up onto the stool and began to eat the breakfast Dean had made you. He watched you intently as you took the first bite into your mouth. It was a little extra greasy but it was super delicious, and you immediately dug into the food. Dean seemed content with your reaction and turned his attention to his own plate. Neither of you said a word about the night before, and you weren't sure how Dean felt about what had happened, which made for an uncomfortably silent meal.

            After taking a little bit of time to digest your breakfast, Dean lead you back down to the gun range where he had you practice more with the pistol he had shown you how to use, as well as had you try out a shotgun filled with salt rounds. There was definitely a lot of work for you to do, and the shotgun had a heavy recoil which made it intimidating and hard to aim. But still, you were improving, and managed to hit the target about half the time with the pistol.

            A little while later, Dean had you put the weapons away and you followed him out of the shooting range. He brought you down the hall a little further into what appeared to be a gym. There was some workout equipment as well as a large open space with pads laid out on the floor. He went over to a shelf and took off his over-shirt, leaving him in only his black t-shirt and jeans. Something about the way his muscles flexed and tightened with his movements made you blush a little with embarrassment, and you immediately took your eyes off of him so that he wouldn't notice you staring and become offended or laugh at you or something.

_He was always attractive. But that doesn't make it okay. He doesn't want me and I shouldn't want him!_

            As Dean approached you, your mind did a complete 180 as you imagined those hands wrapped around your throat and his teeth biting into your neck with a bloodthirsty hunger. Automatically taking a fearful step back, he noticed your sudden change and stopped his approach. Concern flooded his eyes as he studied you, but it was quickly replaced with a stone cold seriousness that only intensified the fear your were trying so hard to fight back. He continued moving towards you, purposefully this time, ignoring your attempts to back down.

"P-please" you nearly squeaked out in one last attempt to hold yourself together as the gap between you disappeared and he grabbed one of your arms and spun you so that it was pinned behind your back. You were beginning to tremble under his firm hold, but he reached his other arm around to gently tilt your chin towards his face.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N. But if someone is trying to kill you and you allow yourself to shut down like this, you'll be dead in seconds." he said, gripping you arm tighter, almost causing you pain but not quite.

His words made sense but it was hard to focus on them through the wave of feelings, memories, and terrors that were passing through you. Learning to face him sitting in a chair, or casually hanging around the library was one thing, this was entirely different.

"Fight through it Y/N. You're strong enough. This is how you survive." He said, staring deep into your eyes with a, not cruel, but a hard and unforgiving look. He was going to make you face your handicap. There was no taking the easy road, and you knew that now.

Releasing you, he took a few steps back to let you fully regain your composure.

"We can stop if you want, Y/N. You can still take the other way out that we talked about last night. It's your choice." he said.

_It's not a choice. I'm too scared and pathetic to be alone, and even if I did, I'm in no shape to protect myself if anything happens... I can't live like this._

"No. I-I'm okay." you said firmly, even though there was a slight stutter, and lifted your chin defiantly to show you were serious about this.

* * *

** Dean's POV **

            The way she acted towards him was so submissive, he couldn't help but notice that it was reflected in everything she did. She barely spoke without first being spoken to, and when she did it was quiet and hesitant. When they went down to the gun range, she never dared walk next to him, always a step or more behind. She never went into a room first unless he stood aside and waited for her to do so. She never interrupted him and was always the first to drop her gaze.

            Part of Dean just wanted to see her angry again, with fire in her eyes. He wanted to see her laugh out loud just once without a care. There was another part of him though, that wanted to see more of what she currently was, submissive and obedient. Everything about her signaled that she was prey, and he couldn't deny the small trace of excitement that built inside of him at the idea of... _No. Shut up you ass,_ he scolded himself, shaking the perverse thoughts away.

            Dean also couldn't stop thinking about the night before. The way she clung to him, the way she didn't want him to leave. There wasn't a single time during the night that she whimpered and cried out from whatever horrible nightmares haunted her sleep. It actually felt like he was able to do _something_ for her, to be there for her. There was something so peaceful and _right_ about the way it felt to hold her while she slept. He'd never done that as a demon, not like that.

            For the next few hours he taught her as many basic self-defense moves as her could. He taught her how to break out of a strangle hold, and how to escape from being subdued from behind. He explained how she could use a larger man's size and momentum against him. It almost seemed like a losing game because she was just so hesitant and had almost no muscle mass at all. But with practice, she could learn. She could get stronger, and _maybe_ she could survive. He was impressed with how well she'd managed to handle him being forceful with her. There was more than one occasion when they had to take a break while she regained her composure but, even though she came close, she never once lost herself entirely.

            Dean cursed himself inwardly so many times he'd lost count, because of the feelings that would build when they were pressed close together, or he had her pinned down so vulnerable. The Mark was also partially, if not mostly, to blame. It made him a predator. It made him want to hunt, to hurt, to kill. He had to fight with himself, with both his lust for sexual satisfaction and for violence.

They trained until they were both exhausted before Dean finally called it for the day. He pushed her hard, and it was only the first day of this type of hands on work.

* * *

**Reader's POV**

            It was difficult to fight the rising panic that threatened to take you over every time Dean was forceful with you. But at the same time you were proud of yourself for at least making it as far as you did without a full on meltdown like a cornered feral cat. The things he was teaching were difficult. You didn't have any strength at all compared to him and had to rely on other tactics to try and gain the advantage. It was tiring, and you didn't make  a lot of progress. But this was only the first day of many, you reminded yourself.

            There were a few moments there when he _really_ scared you. That fierce primal look in his eyes that you remembered glimmered momentarily, and you could have sworn he was about to attack you. There were also times that you felt extremely confused by your own reactions to his closeness. His body was so strong and firm and warm, and his scent was so intoxicating that you almost _wanted...No. How could I ever be with anyone again in that way? How could I want that with Dean Winchester? I don't. I'm just confused and a little messed up._

            Later that evening, as you were getting ready for bed, Dean came by your room and asked if you wanted company again. So badly, you wanted to say yes. But you already felt uncomfortable with not only your own feelings, but with the embarrassment of what he must think of you. There was too much shame in begging for his presence. But you couldn't say no either. Instead you just stood there, staring at the floor, hoping he would simply decide to stay on his own. When he didn't say anything, you felt the shame flood your face, and tried your best to make it go away.

"You don't have to." you said meekly, trying but failing at sounding confident.

Dean reached a hand up slowly so as not to cause you to flinch, and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"Hey," he said, tilting his head down to try and pull your eyes to meet his. "I'd like that." he finished. He gave you gentle smile that reflected mostly through his eyes.

That night, the same as last, he held you close while you slept, lightly tracing his fingers down your arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there's any dramatic errors I need to fix! This chapter just kind of erupted out of me with no rhyme or reason. I hope you enjoyed it! And let me know what you want to see! Love you guys! <3 New chapter soon!


	44. The Mark Of Cain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has been training the reader. But he hasn't been feeding the Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

** Dean's POV **

            Dean had been working Y/N non-stop, training every single day. She was definitely improving. Dean didn't think she was necessarily cut out to be a hunter, but she was tough and didn't give up and he respected that. Everything was far from peachy though. He hadn't worked a case in over a week, and that means he hadn't killed anything either. The Mark wanted blood, and it was taking its toll on Dean's body. He was feeling nauseous, edgy, impatient, and angry all of the time now. When he was a demon, his body was more powerful and didn't get sick from not feeding the Mark. But he also never had to worry about running out of victims when he really needed it with the help of Crowley as well as his lack of conscious.

            He was training Y/N in the gym that morning. He was teaching her to fight with melee weapons, which was a somewhat dangerous activity without blunt practice knives. But that was how _he_ had learned, and he was skilled enough to make sure not to hurt her, and if she accidentally hurt him once or twice it was no big deal. Thanks to the Mark he healed, not immediately like he would as a demon, but still much more quickly than average.

* * *

 

** Reader's POV **

            You ducked one of his attacks and lunged forward with your weapon, aiming for his mid-section. Dean quickly side-stepped and grabbed you buy the wrist, twisting it so that you winced and dropped your knife. At the same time he brought his own knife up against your side, with only enough pressure for you to know it was there.

"You're dead." he said for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, noticeable irritation in his voice. You felt bad for upsetting him, and a little nervous every time he used that tone around you, but you were growing frustrated as well.

_What the hell am I supposed to do about it? I haven't been doing this my whole life like he has. It's not really fair to blame me when I'm trying my hardest!_

            As you were distracted with your thoughts, you hadn't noticed that Dean had already begun the next round. He came at you before you could react and pressed his forearm against your neck as he pushed you backwards. Feeling something hard at your back, you realized he had pressed you into the wall, and you could feel the knife in his other hand resting gently against your chest.

            "Dead" he said again, looking you dead in the eyes. After a moment, you could feel a tension building in the room. Feeling him against you like that sent a warmth running down to your core. What was strange was that he didn't back off like he normally would. Instead, he just stayed there, holding you pinned against the wall with his forearm pressing against your throat.

            As you looked into his eyes, you noticed something had changed. They were darker, and almost unfocused. There was something ominous about them. You'd recognized the look from before. It was predatory. Not just that. It was _lustful_. Hearing the knife hit the floor, you thought that meant he was about to step back, but he didn't. Instead, you felt the hand that was no longer holding the knife grip your waist. His breathing was getting heavier as his green eyes stared into you with such an intensity that they held you captive, unable to move or even think clearly.

            His body was pressed against you in a way that you could feel him growing hard beneath his jeans. The mixture of fear and lust that you yourself were feeling was overwhelming and making it even harder to know how to react. His face only inches from yours as his eyes completely glazed over with lust. Part of you wanted to scream and cry out for Sam. The other part of you wanted him to close that distance between both of your lips.

            He did the latter. The gap disappeared as he pressed his soft lips gently against yours. The feeling sent a wave of excitement through you and it felt like you were floating. Before you could think twice about it, you were kissing him back. That was when everything changed. A low growl emanated from his throat. His kiss turned passionate and violent. He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood, and his tongue forced entry into your mouth. You whimpered as you tried to pull away but the wall made it so that you had nowhere to go.

_Not like this,_ you thought. _Please, not again. Not like this!_

            The arm on your throat pressed more roughly, making it suddenly difficult to draw air into your lungs. His other hand began roaming your body, sliding down your thigh, then stopping momentarily. He glanced down, and you realized he had just lifted the material of your shorts up enough to reveal the cut you'd given yourself on your upper thigh. His eyes returned to yours, looking even more hungry than before. He ground his hips into you with need, and his hand began sliding up along your body, making its way toward your breasts. Tears formed in your eyes as you  began to struggle desperately against him. Your hands pushed against his chest, and you let out muffled cries.

            Remembering what he had taught you about how to get out of this kind of choking grip, you lifted your hands to grip his so that you could twist his arm around the way he showed you before. As you were about to try and break his hold, he suddenly tore himself away from you. His eyes were wide as if he'd been filled with disbelief by his own actions. Dean took another step back from you, then another, then another. His eyes looked like they were beginning to brim with tears. He turned and rushed towards the exit of the gym, bursting out of the door and disappearing. You could hear his heavy footsteps heading away from you and back up the stairs.

* * *

 

** Dean's POV **

            As Dean was holding Y/N there, pinned against the wall, the anger, the built up rage and need took over, but in a different form. He was surprised he didn't either tear her throat out with his teeth, or force himself upon her right then and there. He was so blinded by the need of the Mark that he almost lost control entirely. She looked so weak, so defenseless. The way she stared up at him with those innocent, beautiful E/C eyes. He _needed_ her so badly. He needed her moans and cries. He needed to be inside of her. He needed to own her, to devour her, and he didn't give a damn about what she had to say about it. At least, not at that moment. He was so close. He could feel her heat as he ground against her. The taste of her blood in his mouth nearly drove him mad. Then he felt something on her leg. It was exactly what he thought he'd caught her doing that night in the library. It made him angry, and his in his clouded state, even more turned on than before.

            Dean wasn't sure how he managed to stop himself. All of those feelings, the lust, the rage, were instantly replaced by guilt and shame. He felt like a monster. He had to run. He had to get away from the fear, the hurt, the betrayal written all over her face.

_How could I?_

_How could I do that to her?_

_How could I put her through that again?_

_She was finally getting better. She was finally becoming less afraid of me, finally starting to trust me and I betrayed her._

            Dean rushed into the bathroom and flung the toilet lid open as he collapsed in front of it. He emptied his stomach in a mix of vomit and blood. This was what happened when he didn't feed the mark. Dean just wanted it to end. If it were as easy as dying, he would've put a bullet in his brain a long time ago, just so that he wouldn't have to hurt anyone ever again. But instead of solving anything, it would just turn him back into a demon again. Even if he doesn't die, it's only a matter of time before the Mark turns him anyway. He'll be just like Cain. And Sammy, Cas, and Y/N... Their blood will be on his hands.

_And what then?_

_How am I supposed to live with that?_

_I can't... I just can't, god damn it._

            Dean wept into the toilet as he sat there with his head hanging. He hadn't felt like this since... Since hell. Since he'd had to cope with the memories of tearing all of those souls apart, hearing all of those screams caused by his own hands... and knowing that some dark part of him had _liked_ it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it! The next chapter will be out very soon! Tell me what you thought! This may seem like it's getting a little cat and mousey but it won't be forever, I promise! <3


	45. Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean feels guilty and makes a rash decision. The reader doesn't take it in the way anyone expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

** Dean's POV **

            "Dean?" Sam's voice came from the doorway of Dean's bedroom as Dean stood over his bed, shoving a sheathed machete into his already half full duffle bag. He didn't look over at Sam as he continued packing random items into his bag.

"Hey man, are you going somewhere?" Sam asked, his eyebrows knitted together with worry.

"I can't do it, Sammy." Dean said.

"Can't do what, Dean? You're not making any sense." Sam pressed as Dean was throwing his brown jacket on over his flannel, and zipping up the duffle.

"I just need to get away for a bit, Sam. Don't worry about me." He said, hauling the strap of the bag onto his shoulder and making for the exit, where Sam was blocking the way.

"Dean, just stop, just hold on for a minute!" Sam said, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder to stop him from trying to pass. "What happened?" he asked.

"I hurt her, Sammy." Dean said, his voice slightly breaking.

"What, what do you-"

"God damn it, when we were training, I hurt her, and I almost..." He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts of what he almost did. "I could've killed her. It's this damn mark Sam. I need to get rid of it."

"Alright, alright, Dean. We're working on it. We'll figure it out okay? We'll find a way." Sam said, trying to reassure his brother. "Just, calm down, and, and we'll figure it out."

"And what, in the mean time I just puke blood and _hope_ that I don't lose control and kill someone I care about?" Dean shouted, getting more frustrated. "And, and just _hope_ that we figure out a solution before I turn back into a fucking demon?"

"No, Dean, that's not what I meant. Will you just-"

"Listen man, you're in danger too. No, this is my problem. Everyone is safer if I just go. I've got my cell on me so you can get a hold of me, I won't do anything stupid, I just... I just need to get away for a while, alright?" Dean said, before moving past Sam and heading down the hall.

"Let me know if you find a case." He called behind him, as Sam just stood there defeated, watching his brother leave.

__________________

** Reader's POV **

            _Move,_ you kept telling yourself as you stood in the spot Dean had left you. But your feet refused to listen, and your legs threatened to give way beneath you. Standing there, you fought back the tears that threatened to come pouring out. Reaching up a hand, you touched a finger to your lip. Looking down at your hand, you could see the blood from when had Dean bit your lip. Who knows how much time had passed before you heard the door to the gym open. It couldn't have been long. Sam entered, the urgency and fear on his face quickly replaced by relief as he saw you standing there.

"Y/N." he said, rushing over to you to make sure you were okay.

"Sam?" you asked, unable to find any other words at the moment.

"Hey, are you hurt? What happened? What did Dean do?" Sam rapid fired the questions at you without pause.

"H-he umm..." You began, unsure of exactly what to say. He didn't hurt you, well not _really._ But he almost... But before that happened, the feelings you were experiencing weren't bad. It started out nice, then it became scary.

"Y/N." Sam repeated, waiting for your response. He stared at you like he was waiting for you to break into a million pieces right there.

 _Why haven't I completely lost it?_ you wondered. You couldn't describe how you felt. It wasn't terrible, and it wasn't great. You felt confused, disconnected, as you stared past Sam at nothing. It was a _very_ strange feeling, like you weren't in your body.

"I... He didn't hurt me." you said. Sam eyed the cut on your lip, and you knew he thought you were full of shit.

"Let's get you upstairs and clean that cut, and then I'm going to need you to tell me what happened, okay?" Sam said, putting a supportive hand on your shoulder as he escorted you out of the room.

Sam had given you a cloth to clean the blood off your lip, and was currently getting you a glass of water as you sat on a stool in the kitchen.

"W-where is he?" you asked Sam as you held the cloth against your lip.

Sam came back to the table and set a glass of water in front of you and sat down across the counter.

"He said it would be best if he left for a while..." Sam said calmly, though clearly not too comfortable with the fact. Your stomach dropped.

_What?_

"Wait, he's gone?" You asked, snapping out of your dissociative state.

"Yeah, I know he's just trying to protect us but-"

            Before Sam could finish his sentence, you slid down off the stool and practically ran through the bunker to Dean's room. Opening the door, you peeked inside. Dean wasn't there. The first thing you noticed was that his favorite machete was gone, as well as his jacket, boots, and car keys. Running to your room, you grabbed the cell phone that Dean had given you. Quickly pulling up Dean's number in the contacts, you pressed call held the phone to your ear.

The phone rang.

 _What am I going to say?_ You thought, realizing you hadn't thought this through at all. You didn't even know why you were calling him in the first place.

The phone rang again.

 _Answer,_ you thought.

It kept ringing.

_It's my fault. I made him leave._

_Wait shouldn't I be mad a him?_

"This is Dean's other other cell so, you must know what to do." _Beep._

Not knowing what to say, you hung up the phone.

___________________

            A few days had passed and neither you or Sam had heard anything from Dean. It was the first time you'd had to sleep alone since the first time Dean stayed with you in your room. The nightmares returned. But they weren't always about the times Dean had hurt you like they used to be. They were about the other demons and what they did to you. And sometimes, you even dreamed that Dean was the one who got killed, and you couldn't reach him though you tried desperately to get to him. When you were awake, you felt out of it. Like you weren't entirely there.

            You went back to spending most of your nights in the library, drinking and occasionally drawing little lines into yourself with your knife. Like before, it wasn't sadness that made you do it. It was just that feeling of control, and at this point, just experiencing any sensations at all. As far as you could tell, Sam had no idea what you'd been doing, and you preferred to keep it that way. He had a tendency to over-worry himself, and with his brother missing he didn't need the extra weight of worrying needlessly about you.

            Sam _was_ worried though. Like the Sam you'd come to know, he never openly said anything about his own fears. Instead he spent a lot of time trying to make _you_ feel better, trying to include you in activities and get you to watch television shows. He helped you study your lore and practice in the shooting range, which you'd insisted on continuing even in Dean's absence. It was easy to tell though by the looks on his face that he tried to hide, that he was suffering too. He had only just gotten his brother back not that long ago from his two month hiatus as a demon. Dean had the Mark and Sam wasn't around to look after him; had no way of knowing what it might be doing to him right now, or what _he_ might be doing.

            At first it was hard to admit to yourself that you missed Dean, but you did. He may have been a monster to you once, but now he was something else entirely. He was the only true constant you had left in your life. His scent, his voice, his face, all familiar to you, all full of warmth and security. You found yourself even missing the slight shivers of fear he sent through you. How these feelings developed you could never explain and you knew that no rational person would understand it. But that didn't change the fact that they were there. It didn't change the fact that without him, it felt like you had an empty hole in your chest that couldn't be filled.

__________________

** Dean's POV **

            Dean sat at a bar in a small town north of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He'd thought about stopping on the way to check in on their friend Jody Mills who was the local Sheriff of Sioux Falls, but decided against it and simply drove through without stopping. The last few days were a bit of a blur to Dean. He'd spent the majority of the day time sitting in a motel room, doing research and making calls, trying to find _anything_ that might lead him to an answer on how to deal with the Mark of Cain. Afterwards, he would look for any signs of demon activity, anything that would give him something to kill to satiate the Mark. At night he would stop into the closest bar, stay there until closing, stumble back to the motel, and then repeat it all the next day.

            He found himself thinking about Y/N constantly, no matter what he did to distract himself. He missed her. He missed holding her close at night, and spending time with her during the day. He missed all of her small smiles and almost laughs that he was finally starting to see. He missed her scent, her voice, the way she moved, the way she cried, all of it. He remembered the sweet metallic taste of her blood in his mouth, and the way she trembled in his arms, and the thought made him burn with need. He had feelings for her, cared about her, sexually _and_ emotionally; he couldn't deny that.

 _There's no way in hell you deserve her, especially after what you've put her through,_ he told himself.

 _I guess that's what I do,_ he thought to himself as he sat leaning forward against the bar, sipping his glass of whiskey. _I let down the people I love._

            He pulled out his phone, and scrolled through his missed calls and listened to voicemails that Sam had left him over the past few days. Not long after he left the bunker, he saw an incoming call from the phone he had given to Y/N. Dean had stared at his phone in shock and disbelief when he saw it. He couldn't fathom that _she_ would be calling him. He wanted to answer. He wanted her to tell him to come back. But he was sure she was angry with him and wouldn't _want_ him back. He couldn't bring himself to face her after what he'd done anyway, even if it was just her voice. Dean kept going through his messages and paused when he came across a more recent one from Sam, saying that he'd found a case. There were dozens of reports of grave desecrations as well as a growing list of missing persons in Corydon, Iowa. It was less than a six hour drive from both Sam and Dean's locations so he texted him and agreed to meet up at a motel in Corydon to work on the case together.

            It would be nice to have something to distract himself with, Dean thought. Anything to get his mind off of this crap with the Mark, Y/N, wondering whatever the hell Crowley was up to, all of it. He was drawn out of his thoughts by a woman's voice that was directed at him. Looking up, he saw the blonde bartender leaning forward against the bar, her arms folded in a way that made her breasts look even more pronounced. She had asked him something but in his distracted thoughts, he didn't hear what it was.

"Hmm?" He asked, looking up at her.

"I said, my name's Claire. What's yours, honey?" she repeated, a sultry smile forming on her lips.

Dean flashed her a predatory smile.

"I'm Dean, sweetheart." he said, shooting a not so secret glance down at her exposed cleavage before letting his eyes roam back up to hers. He took another sip of his drink as he stared her down. It had been a while since he'd been laid, he thought to himself. Mm and the things he could do to her.

            "Well, Dean" she said, not breaking eye contact. "I get off in an hour, if you wanna... get out of here?" She reached out towards his hand that was wrapped loosely around his drink on the counter, and ran her finger slow and purposefully along his own.

            Dean smiled and leaned back on his stool, about to take her up on her offer. But then he remembered Y/N and a rush of guilt flashed through him. They were sure as hell not in a relationship, especially after what he'd done, but something about spending the night with another girl just didn't seem right. The idea didn't even sound appealing in the slightest all of a sudden. He downed the rest of his glass, relishing the burn of the liquid as it ran down his throat before setting the empty glass back on the counter.

            "Uh, actually you know what?" he said, getting up from the stool and throwing on his jacket. "You're a real... lovely... girl, but I'm sorry. I'm going to have to pass." he said, pulling some cash out of his pocket and setting it on the bar before turning to leave without even bothering to wait for her to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think! I hope I am doing the dialog in a fitting manner. It is something that greatly concerns me because I want to do the characters justice! The next chapter is already almost complete so it will be up VERY soon!


	46. Monster of the Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean go on a hunt together. They discuss him leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

** Dean's POV **

            Sam met up with Dean at the motel early the next morning. He explained the case in more detail, and to Dean's relief, avoided discussing the Mark of Cain and Dean's abrupt disappearance from the bunker. Donning their fed suits and fake badges, they went to the police station to inquire about the grave desecrations and missing persons. Dean was just glad to be working again, and he honestly had missed having his little brother around. Though he never admitted it to anyone, he hated being alone.

            The case turned out to be a milk run for the most part. They discovered pretty quickly from the M.O that what they were hunting was a Ghoul. It had been raiding graves and eating the corpses, as well as kidnapping people here and there when it craved "fresh meat". In other words, it got careless.

_Monsters always get careless eventually,_ Dean thought. _That's why they always get caught._

            Due to the body count, they could only assume that it was a small group of Ghouls. They also found out that they had likely set up their lair in an abandoned shack on the edge of town, which was within a few miles of the cemetery, as well as all of the locations where people had gone missing from. As they were driving out to the location, Sam couldn't hold in his concerns about Dean any longer.

"Hey Dean, uh... How are you doing?" He asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean glanced over at his brother. He knew where this conversation was headed, and he really wasn't looking forward to it.

            "I'm good." he said, nodding nonchalantly, hoping it would end there. But he knew Sam, and it was never that easy. As much as it annoyed him, he knew that Sammy only did it because he cared about him. They were family, and nothing could change that, not Sam losing his soul, not Dean becoming a demon, nothing.

Sam nodded as if he accepted the answer, but Dean could see the wheels turning in Sam's head.

"How's uh..." he said, gesturing with his head to the mark on Dean's arm. Dean looked at the        mark for a second before reaching up and tugging his sleeve down slightly, just enough to partially hide it from view.

"It's fine, Sam. I'm handling it." Dean said flatly.

"So you haven't uh..." he began, clearly unsure of how to word his question, but Dean already understood what he was asking.

"What, you mean did I go all Ted Bundy on a bunch of people? No, Sammy, I haven't. Like I said, I'm handling it." Dean said, his tone giving away how much he didn't want to be having this conversation.

"I know, Dean. I just... I just think it would be better if you came back to the bunker-"

"Look, I said drop it alright?" He snapped. "I told you before, it's better that I stay away for awhile".

            Sam was about to argue, but at that moment Dean was pulling up to the building where the Ghouls were hiding out and they needed to return their focus to the job at hand. They parked the car a little ways away to avoid alerting anyone to their presence and opened the trunk, gearing up for the assault. They both kept their handguns with them, but since the only way to kill Ghouls is through decapitation, they each grabbed a decent sized machete for the job. As they approached the house, they split up, Dean taking the front while Sam went around back to cut off any attempts of escape.

            Dean picked the lock and carefully moved into the house. He stepped into the entry way, wielding his machete, prepared for an attack. When none came, he continued through what was likely once a living room. He heard a grunting sound along with a loud thud, and rounded the next corner towards the noise. He ran into Sam who had come in through the back door. There was the body of a Ghoul at his feet, its head lying separate a few feet away. Together they cleared the first floor, and then climbed the stairs to the second. Dean signaled to Sam to go one way, and he went the other, each checking rooms as they went.

            Dean opened each door in the hallway, searching each room until he came to a locked door. Sam had finished searching the other rooms on his side and re-joined Dean. Signaling that they were ready, Dean took a step back before kicking in the door. It broke open easier than expected, probably, he assumed, due to the wood-rot, since the house was so old. As soon as the door flew open, a wretched smell hit them. There was blood everywhere, and a rotting, half-eaten corpse lying near the far wall.

            Dean took a step inside and immediately was attacked from the side by one of the Ghouls who had hidden by the door. He threw the human-disguised creature off of him, and swung his machete, easily decapitating it. Dean was suddenly knocked to the floor by a second Ghoul, but before it could do any harm, Sam came behind it and cut its head off just like the others.

            As expected, the hunt went pretty smoothly, and Sam and Dean drove the Impala back to the motel to get cleaned up and get some rest before clearing town and heading their separate ways. Dean was sitting on the end of his bed, drinking a beer and watching television when Sam came out of the bathroom and went to grab himself his own beer from the case on the table. Sam opened his beer and went over to join Dean, sitting down on his own bed a few feet away.

"Dean-"

"How is she?" Dean interrupted him.

"Dean..." Sam began.

"Damn it, I just want to know if she's alright." Dean said, trying to avoid the lecture that he knew Sam was waiting to give.

"She's... okay." Sam said.

"Good." said Dean, still staring at the television.

Sam got up and moved over to where Dean was. He sat down next to his brother at the end of the bed. After a few moments of awkward silence, and Dean pretending like he wasn't paying attention, Sam started speaking.

"Y/N... She misses you, you know." He said.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Dean scoffed. "I am the _last_ person she wants to see."

"I mean it Dean... She's been acting, I don't know, distant."

"Yeah Sammy, she's fucking traumatized. That shit doesn't just go away." Dean retorted, bringing his beer to his lips.

"No Dean, not like before. This is different." Sam said. "She's been having nightmares again."

Dean stopped short of taking a drink from his beer, concern suddenly clouding his face as he stared forward.

            "When she found out you'd left, she freaked." Sam continued. "And since then, she's been drinking every night. She spends all of her time either studying lore books, practicing in the shooting range, or sitting alone in her room. She's been totally distant and reserved, _more_ than usual. I've been trying but honestly, I don't even know how to _begin_ to help her. I mean, it's obvious she's depressed, and I think she blames herself for you leaving."

            What Sam was telling him broke his heart. He didn't want her to suffer, and it sounded like that's what was happening. _But it can't be because of me leaving, right?_ He thought. _That just doesn't make any damn sense._

            "Why in the hell would she want me around? Sammy, you _know_ what I-... What I did to her. I'd be surprised if she didn't hate me. I'm surprised _you_ don't hate me, I mean I tried to kill you with a hammer, man!" Dean said, shaking his head as he stood up, setting his beer down on top of the television. He began to pace across the room. "...It doesn't matter. I almost hurt her _again._ As long as I have this Mark, I'm dangerous."

"Don't you think it would be better for you to stay at the bunker, where we can keep an eye on you? We're not going to get any closer to finding a cure with you motel and bar hopping around the country not answering your phone." Sam argued.

Dean wasn't sure what to say. He knew Sam was right, and that there was no place better than the bunker. But having him around was like living with a ticking time-bomb for _anyone_ and _everyone_ around him.

            "...Y/N cares about you, Dean." Sam said after a minute. "I mean you may not believe it. I'm not even entirely sure if _she_ knows it. But she does. The whole thing is weird, I know, _believe_ me. But...She _needs_ you, Dean." At Sam's words, Dean felt an unexpected pang of hope fill his heart. "Man, and... I spent months trying to find you when you were a demon. I feel like I _just_ got my brother back, and now you want to leave?" There was a long moment of silence between them. Dean ran a hand down over his mouth and chin.

"I don't know what to do, Sammy." Dean said, sitting back down on the bed. He felt so uncomfortably vulnerable as he looked to his little brother for guidance.

"Just... Just come _home_." Sam said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you thought! I'll get to work on the next one right away! Love you all! <3


	47. Save Me From Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

** Reader's POV **

            Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you headed down to the shooting range to practice some more. Sam left yesterday morning, saying he was going to work a case. He said he'd had no luck contacting Dean and found a relatively easy job nearby that he decided he would go and take care of himself. You were worried about him going alone, but he assured you that he's been doing this for years and it was nothing to worry about. Despite your requests, he absolutely refused to allow you to tag along with him, promising that he would be back either today or  tomorrow.  So you were stuck sitting in the bunker by yourself... just waiting.

            Taking the first few shots with the pistol and actually hitting the target each time, you felt some pride in knowing that you were improving. The shotgun was a whole different story, and though you had gotten better, you still found it to be a very difficult weapon to aim and the strong kick always took you aback a little. As much as you had begun to appreciate your life in the bunker, it had begun to feel more and more like a prison. That certainly wasn't Sam's fault, but you simply didn't have a car, or money, or even any reason to go anywhere. Even if you could find a reason to go out, the bunker felt like it was the one thing protecting you from everything evil waiting outside.

            The worst part was thinking about Dean. No matter how much you reminded yourself why you should hate him, you just found yourself imagining him walking back through that door and wishing it would happen. Every time you found yourself with these thoughts, you tried to remind yourself. _He was a murderer, a monster. He killed your family, he killed other innocent people, he tortured you, he did countless heinous things..._

_But that wasn't Dean. Not this Dean. That wasn't him. It wasn't his fault. He suffers every day for those things that he did. My Dean has even more of a heart than most anyone I've ever known._ You just _couldn't_ make yourself truly hate him, or truly be okay with him being gone.

_..."My" Dean?_ you thought, realizing what you'd just done.

_He's not "mine" though... He never was and never will be. Why would he want a pathetic, useless, damaged woman like me as his... Well as his anything._

The reminder of what he'd said to you, about being weak, about being chosen simply because you were an easy target, made your heart sink.

_______________

            Once you had finished up at the shooting range, no longer feeling motivated, you went back upstairs. Walking over to the table where the bottle of whiskey sat, you picked it up, about to begin your nightly ritual a bit early today. But instead of sitting in your favorite chair, you looked over at the hallway that lead to your room. Not knowing what compelled you, you turned away from the chair, bottle of whiskey still in hand, and began walking down the hallway. Instead of going to your room though, you found yourself stopping in front of Dean's door. You slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open, peeking inside, half expecting to see Dean sitting there on the bed with his headphones on.

            The room was just as empty as it had been for the last, almost week. Letting out a sigh, you closed the door  behind you and made your way over to his bed. Switching on his lamp, you crawled onto the bed and sat, leaning your back against the headboard. Turning your head to look at his bedside table, you saw his mp3 player and headset resting there. You took a drink from the bottle in your hand before setting it on the table in exchange for the headphones, which you put over your ears. You also grabbed the mp3 player and hit the button to turn it on, playing whatever song that it was stopped on.

A song called, "My Own Worst Enemy" by Robert Pettersson began blaring into your ears.

_"Stick to my guns and I watch the darkness fill the void._  
 _Am I starting to become what I was sent here to destroy?_  
 _In the mirror I see you staring back at me._  
  
_Each time the hatred grows I forget which side I'm on._  
 _Is it simply my own shadow I've been chasing all along?_  
 _In the mirror I see you staring back at me._  
  
_I am my own worst enemy._  
 _Somebody save me from myself._  
 _I am my own worst enemy._

_It's like I'm fighting someone else._  
 _I am my own worst enemy._  
  
_You got me down on my knees but now I'm trying to get up._

_You have torn me apart piece by piece and now I'm begging you to stop._  
 _In the mirror I see you staring back at me."_  


A female singer started in with a soft, beautiful voice.  
_"This is a battle you can't win. For you there's no such victory._  
 _One day you'll pay for all your sins, unless you beg for mercy."_  


            The song hit you like a sack of bricks to the heart. There were a few parts in the song that you felt you could relate to back when Dean was torturing you. But more than that, the entire song sounded like it was singing about him, his curse, and the horrible things he'd done that he now had to live with... For the first time, you began to _truly_ feel remorse for Dean and what he's been through, especially if he really thought so lowly of himself. What he's going through now; it's something that he can't control and it's eating away at him.

_And me._

As the next song began playing, you closed your eyes and leaned your head back. The room smelled so much like Dean, and you found the aroma extremely relaxing. The next song was called "Man in the Wilderness" by Styx.

_I wonder if he feels the loneliness..._ you thought as you sat there remembering how he acted as a demon; drinking, fucking, killing, sleeping. The same crappy bars and motels every night. And how it had started to seem so pathetic and almost sad. As thoughts of Dean, both good and bad, swirled around your head, you began to drift off to the music.

_"What kind of man have I become?_   
_All of the years I've spent in search of myself._   
_And I'm still in the dark._   
_'Cause I can't seem to find the light alone._

_Sometimes I feel like a man in the wilderness._   
_I'm a lonely soldier off to war._   
_Sent away to die, never quite knowing why._   
_Sometimes it makes no sense at all."_

Before the last notes of the second song, you had fallen asleep. Your dreams were filled with memories. Memories of Dean's brutality, but also of his gentleness.

________________

When you awoke, the mp3 player was still on, and a loud guitar solo was playing in your ears.

            As you came to your senses and remembered where you were, you sat up, removing the headset and setting them down on the bed next to you. There was a strange sound coming from outside of the room.

_Footsteps,_ you realized as you shot upright.

Within moments, the door to the room opened and none other than Dean Winchester was standing in the doorway, gaping at you with an absolutely shocked expression on his face. He clearly hadn't expected to find you in his bedroom. When you just stared at him, he simply stood there blinking, as if he wasn't sure what to do.

"Dean..." you said, quickly scrambling off the bed and running to him, throwing your arms around his waist and burying your head in his chest. Your eyes were filled with tears, and you didn't know why. A part of you still knew that Dean was dangerous, and feared that he might hurt you. But you didn't care. If he wanted to hurt you, then fine, as long as you weren't alone.

* * *

 

** Dean's POV **

            As Dean entered the bunker, he was feeling extremely anxious. He had spent the entire drive home trying to figure out what to say to her, trying to prepare himself to even face her. He decided it would be best to just go straight to his room and unload his bag, then go from there. But when he pushed open the door to his room, he stood frozen in shock. Y/N was there. She was sitting on his bed, and from her disheveled hair and sleep muddled eyes, she looked like she had just woken up from a nap. She had his headset and mp3 player lying on the bed next to her, and there was an open bottle of whiskey on the bedside table.

_Y/N..._ He didn't know what to say. He couldn't even move. The sight in front of him was the last thing he could have ever guessed he would find, and he was still trying to process what it meant. Her eyes suddenly grew wide as she stared at him, and not another moment passed before she was out of bed and running towards him. He could have sworn she said his name before throwing her arms around him in a desperate hug. Y/N hadn't said his name a single time in the bunker since the incident in the library, and this time she didn't even cower away after saying it. She just held onto him as if he might disappear at any moment.

            Dean wrapped his own arms around her small form, hugging her tightly to him. He couldn't believe what was happening as he tried to figure out what horrible thing he was missing, while deep down he hoped that it was exactly what Sam had said it was. Pulling back slightly, he gently lifted her chin with his hand and lightly pressed his lips against hers. She didn't protest or pull away like he'd feared. Instead, he felt her hesitate for only a moment before her lips pressed softly back into his, returning the chaste kiss.

When the kiss ended, she stared up at you.

"A-are you mad?" she asked. The question took him aback.

"No, why would I-" he stopped himself mid-sentence, searching her E/C eyes. Dean wrapped her up into another hug, his cheek resting against her hair. "I'm not mad." he whispered, smoothing the back of her hair with his hand. "I'm sorry for what I did. And I'm sorry I left".

With a small sigh, she relaxed against him.

"P-please, don't leave me alone." she whispered against his shirt, so quietly he barely heard her.

Dean closed his eyes and kissed her softly on the top of her head. He couldn't comprehend the emotions she had towards him. _I don't deserve to be loved. Especially not by her._

"I'm not going anywhere, princess... I promise." he said, though he knew deep down that that was a promised he probably couldn't keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that too fluffy? I'm feeling fluffy. Tell me what you think! <3


	48. Hey Jude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader faces the first night of having Dean back at the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            After you had all eaten and Dean and Sam were ready to call it a night, Dean invited you to stay with him in his room. You agreed and left to your own room to change into pajamas. On your way back out the door though, you stopped and turned back, going instead to kneel in front of your bedside table. Grabbing the small metal handle, you pulled open the drawer and peeked inside for the item you were searching for. It was there next to your knife; the picture of Dean as a child. After you picked it up, you held it with both hands and admired the innocent smiling little boy with the green eyes.

            Pocketing the picture in your sweats, you went to Dean's door and knocked lightly. It was already cracked slightly open, but you didn't feel bold enough to just walk in. Dean appeared at the door. He was wearing grey sweatpants, a dark navy blue t-shirt, and white socks. He looked like just a normal guy, not a hunter, not a demon, not like someone who'd been to hell.

            "Hey." he said, smiling warmly as he opened the door and stepped aside, wordlessly inviting you to come in. Head bowed slightly and staring at the floor, you walked past him and stood awkwardly by the end of the bed. You felt your nerves building in your chest. He gave you a puzzled look and took a step towards you.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, as you slid your hand into your pocket.

_Fear._ That's the feeling that was growing inside you as you nervously fingered the photo you had stolen from his room when you'd first arrived.

_"You thought you could steal from me, sweetheart? Oh, this is going to be fun."_ His gravelly voice rang in your head as you imagined him raising his fist.

"I'm sorry." you muttered weakly as you pulled the picture out of your pocket and sank to your knees. "Please don't be mad, sir. I'm sorry... I-I didn't mean-" you began to beg but he cut you off.

"Whoa whoa, hey. Don't start that again, sweetheart." He said, startled by your behavior. "What's wrong?"

Your hand began to tremble as you held the photo out to him, keeping your head down and your eyes glued to his feet. Dean took the photo out of your hand and looked at it.

            "I-I'm sorry." you repeated quietly as you waited for him to hit you, hoping that he wouldn't be angry enough to leave. It took all of your effort to stay put and not flinch away when you saw him move his arm. But he didn't hit you. Instead he bent down and took your hand in his. Dean's hand was warm and calloused, yet surprisingly soft at the same time. He gently pulled, helping you stand up before he turned away from you and walked over to his desk. He gingerly placed the photo so that it was leaning against the lamp where it was when you'd found it originally, and turned back to face you.

"Y/N. Look at me." he said in a low and calm, yet still commanding tone. Tearing your eyes away from his white socks, you tentatively looked up at him. He didn't appear angry, just relaxed, and you weren't entirely sure what that meant.

            He reached out and took your hand a second time. He lifted it with both of his up to his face and tenderly kissed it without dropping eye-contact. His lips felt warm and soft on your skin. He then guided you over to the bed and crawled into it beside you.

_I'm really stupid,_ you thought to yourself. _He's not a demon. All I'm doing is showing him how pathetic and messed up I am._

            After pulling the blanket over both of you, Dean leaned over a grabbed his headset off the table, placing it carefully over your ears. He switched through some songs on his mp3 player and then hit play before setting it down in his lap. As the song began, he laced his fingers with yours and wrapped his other arm around you from behind, holding you close to his side as you cuddled into his chest.

_"Hey Jude, don't make it bad._  
Take a sad song and make it better.  
Remember to let her into your heart.  
Then you can start to make it better."

As the song "Hey Jude" by The Beatles played softly in your ears, you immediately began to feel yourself relaxing.

_"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain._  
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.  
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little colder."

            For a moment you thought you were hearing things, but as you felt Dean's chest rumble lightly beneath your head, you realized he was humming along with the song. It was surprising to say the least. And felt yourself filled with a peaceful warmth. It wasn't until the song was almost over that you realized you were smiling. It was strange because at the same time, you felt the first tear run down your cheek. But you weren't crying because you were scared or hurt or angry or broken. You were crying because right now, you _weren't_ any of those things.

When the song ended, Dean took the headset from you and planted a gentle kiss onto your temple.

"You know... My mother used to sing that to me when I was a baby." he said, staring off at the far wall, his mouth curved into a slight smile. Looking up at him, you couldn't help but wonder.

"What happened to her?" you asked, and his gaze floated back to you for a second before going down.

"A demon with yellow eyes killed her." he said plainly, clearly not intending to elaborate. There was hurt in his eyes as he stared off, remembering things that you couldn't imagine.

Propping yourself up a little, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before settling back against his chest, his hand still laced with yours, and closing your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KILL IT WITH FLUFF. Haha, again, let me know what you liked or didn't like! Thanks so much for sticking with me! Love you! <3 New chapter will be out soon!


	49. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader isn't the only one with nightmares. And she knows that she can't cower in fear forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            You were awoken by a sound in the dark. Dazing into consciousness, you realized the sound was coming from the man lying next to you. Dean was on his back, his face scrunched and his breathing heavy.

"N-..N-No... No!" he grunted out in his sleep. His eyes squeezed shut, he jerked his head to the side, making a noise that sounded like a whimper. Not once since you'd met him had you ever heard Dean make such a vulnerable sound.

_He had nightmares too,_ you realized as you lay on your side watching him. His hands clenching over and over into the sheets at his sides. The mark on his arm was burning with that red glow you'd seen many times before.

"Dean." you whispered quietly. He didn't wake as he continued to struggle with whatever darkness haunted his dreams.

"D-Dean." You repeated slightly louder, placing a hand on his shoulder. The moment you made contact with him, his hand flew up to grip your wrist. A second later he was on top on you, his other hand on your throat, pure terror in his eyes as they bore into yours, his breathing heavy.

            "De-" it was too hard to breathe with the grip he had on you, and for a moment you thought he might kill you. But suddenly his demeanor changed, like a switch flipped inside his head and he remembered where he was. His eyes grew wide as he looked at you. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly released his grip on your throat and you gasped as you desperately pulled air into your lungs.

            "Y/N." He muttered as he hovered above you, a hand next to either side of your head, supporting his weight as he sat there, eyes still slightly clouded over with whatever horrors he had witnessed in his mind. Instinctively, you reached up and put a hand against either side of his face, hoping to help ground him. Your body was trembling slightly from your _own_ feelings that his sudden aggressive actions brought forth inside of you.

"I-It's okay. Hey. You're okay." You reassured him calmly as you pushed away your own demons, echoing Dean's own words back to him that he'd used on you.

            Dean stared at you for a moment, like he was studying your face. Then he rolled over onto his back next to you and sighed deeply as he managed to calm his breathing. He closed his eyes and reached his other hand over, gripping his forearm over the spot where the Mark of Cain was etched into his skin.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

You smiled softly at him and rested your hand over his on his arm, gently rubbing your thumb over his skin.

"No." you said.

Dean looked down at your hand and moved his away, escaping your touch. He stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you in darkness.

            Laying awake in Dean's bed, you waited for him to return but he didn't. After a half hour or so, you gave up trying to sleep and decided to go and find him. Creeping down the hall, you followed the soft glow of lamp light that you saw emanating from the library. As you turned the corner, you saw Dean sitting there at the table with a glass of whisky in front of him. He was wearing his grey robe and his head was bowed into his hands.

_He wants to be alone,_ you told yourself, fighting the urge to go over to him. You went back your room, not Dean's, and spent the next few hours trying to sleep. For the most part, you were unsuccessful, and only had maybe twenty minutes or so total of actual time spent unconscious.  When you made your way back down the hall again, this time you saw Sam sitting at the table as well, pouring over his laptop with a cup of coffee next to him. When he heard your footsteps, he looked up and gave you a tired smile.

"Oh hey, Y/N. Good morning." said Sam.

            "Good morning." you said, smiling sweetly in return before glancing over at Dean. The whisky he was drinking a few hours ago had now turned into coffee, but otherwise it looked like he hadn't moved. He didn't look up at you as he sat there, eyes lazily skimming over some papers he had in front of him. Taking a few steps over to the doorway that lead out to the kitchen, you awkwardly cleared your throat.

"U-um.. Would you guys like some breakfast?" you asked shyly.

Sam looked over at Dean as if he was also waiting for him to say something, but didn't.

"Thanks, Y/N. That sounds good, but uh..." Sam said before clearing his throat as well. "Dean and I found a case, so we're going to be heading out soon." Even though Sam was the one speaking, you couldn't tear your eyes off of Dean, who finally looked over at you.

"We shouldn't be gone long." Dean said in a low gravelly morning voice as he stood up from the table. "Just a few days at most." He walked off, and you followed him as he went to his room. Dean pulled his duffle bag out and began packing some things for the road. When he noticed you standing in his doorway watching him, he side-eyed you with concern

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" he asked.

Swallowing hard, you closed the door behind you and turned back to face him.

"You... Um... Y-you're leaving?" you asked quietly. It came out a bit more squeaky than you had intended.

Dean gave you a look as if you had just asked him if Motorhead was a band.

"Uh, yeah." he said matter-of-factly. "Sam found us a case... We're hunters, that's what we do. Besides you heard Sam, it shouldn't take more than a few days".

Dean didn't seem to sense the issue that you were trying to hint at.

_He's leaving again. He said he wouldn't leave. He lied and now he's just going to go,_ you thought. Dean looked at you again, clearly confused.

_I'm being way too dramatic. He's not leaving. He's working. Him and Sam do this all the time. Don't embarrass yourself!_ But you couldn't stand the idea of him going.

"D-Dean," you started, stumbling over his name. "I umm... I think that uh, I mean... Can I join you and Sam?"

Dean's eyes went wide for a moment, then crinkles formed in the corners as he let out a chuckle. "On a hunt? Yeah, that's not going to happen, sweetheart." he said, very amused by your request as he went back to packing.

Feeling offended by his response, you took a small step towards him.

"I mean it. I-I've been training, and, and I think I should come with... You know, t-to learn." you said, trying to force conviction into your voice.

_Don't leave me alone,_ you plead silently.

Dean stopped what he was doing, his eyes hardening as he realized that you were serious.

"No way." he said flatly, then turned to you with disbelief on his face. "You want to go on a _hunt_?" he said like you were insane. "Do you have any idea what kind of danger that puts you in? Yeah, no, training you to defend yourself is one thing, but no way in hell are you going on a hunt."

Swallowing hard, you did your best to make your voice as steady as possible.

"How then... am I supposed to get stronger if I stay hidden in here, afraid of everything? How can I ever-"

"Damn it, Y/N, I said no!" Dean shouted, staring you down. He watched you flinch at the sound of his voice, and took a step towards you.

"But-"

"You want to hunt? You want to fight monsters, _demons?_ The same kind that tore your aunt into little pieces? The same kind that tortured you for weeks?" he said loudly, continuing to move towards you as you felt yourself shrinking away from him.

"You want to _hunt_ , when you can't even stand there and say my damn name without having a nervous breakdown?" he said, closing in on you. His words cut deep to your core. Steeling yourself against what he knew you were probably going to do next, what your body wanted so badly to do, you clenched your fists and lifted your chin defiantly.

            "Dean!" you shouted at him, unable to will yourself to move forward but refusing to back down. "Dean Fucking Winchester. You promised you wouldn't leave and I'll be damned if I let you walk out that door and leave me here alone, _again._ I'll be damned if I'm going to just sit here and hide for the rest of my god forsaken life because of what _you_ did to me, what those _monsters_ did to me! You think I'm weak. Well yeah I'm fucking weak, so _teach_ me to be strong. I'm so _tired_ of being weak, Dean. So you fucking teach me. Clean up the mess _you_ made! I don't want to be broken anymore!" You screamed, tears of frustration filling your eyes.

An glimmer of hurt flashed over Dean's eyes before they returned to their angry glare. He thought for a moment before raising a hand and pointing at you.

"You will do everything I say, no hesitation, no questions asked." he commanded in a hard tone.

Still glaring and keeping your eyes locked on his, you nodded sharply.

"I mean it Y/N. You stay in the back, and if I say hide you hide. If I say run, you run, and if I say shoot, you shoot. Do. you. understand?" He was all but yelling as her stressed each word, towering over you. There was almost no space left between you now, and your back was to the door.

"Yes... _sir_." You said, your words submissive, but your tone still somewhat challenging.

            As soon as the word left your lips, Dean's hands grabbed your hips tightly and pulled you against him. He crashed his lips into yours, and a fire ignited in your core. This kiss was not gentle like the last one. It was aggressive and angry. But it only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back and looked you in the eyes, his own filled with lust, waiting as if he was afraid that he was pushing you too far. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him forcefully. Dean let out a low growl and his hands slipped around to your ass, squeezing and kneading it possessively. His tongue plunged into and explored your mouth. Dean was taking complete control, and you gave it over to him willingly.

** Dean's POV **

            Dean realized he'd gone too far when he shouted at her, shoving her own weaknesses in her face, but he just wanted her to be safe. She was safe here at the bunker, even more so when he was gone. And he was already embarrassed that she saw him so vulnerable when he had that nightmare...

            He never expected her to respond to his anger the way she did. Every word she said hit him like a stone to the heart, and she was right. He saw fire in her eyes as she spoke. True, confident, fire, and the feeling went straight down, making him instantly hard. The look on her face was defiant, yet she was still clearly trying her best to hide her fear. It took everything he had to resist the urge to put her in her place.

            He didn't want her to come on the hunt, but he couldn't deny that she was right about everything. He had to take her with him. He couldn't leave her alone, not right now, not again. She wasn't his property that he could keep locked away, even though he wished that were the case. And it _was_ his mess to clean up. He broke her, and she wanted him to fix her. He just didn't know how.

_How do you fix something like that?_ It didn't matter. He would give her whatever she needed. So he agreed to let her come with some conditions.

            When the words "yes, _sir"_ slipped out of her mouth with that underlying tone of challenge, he couldn't take it anymore. Dean pulled her hard against him, but before he could accidentally hurt her, he forced himself back, awaiting her reaction. When she gave it, it was almost too much for him. He needed her. He wanted to take her right then and there against the door, but he knew he couldn't. But it didn't matter. The fact that she had given herself up to him, let him have total control over her and trusted him with it, meant the world to him. Even though he was being rough, he was still putting a lot of work into restraining himself. He ground against her and moved a hand up to entangle her hair in his fingers, and deepen the kiss even more.

            When they finally separated, they were both breathing heavily, both extremely turned on, both wanting each other. Dean wasn't sure what she would do if he tried to take it to the next step but he didn't want to put her in that position. She wasn't ready for that and he knew it, and he refused to make her feel used and uncared for the way he did when he was a demon. When and if she decided to be with him, it would be on her terms. He held his grip on her waist as he closed his eyes, taking control of the situation and regaining his composure. She let her palms slide down his chest, almost to his belt, before taking his hands in hers and squeezing gently. It was her own way of showing possession, saying that Dean was hers.

She would come with him and Sam, and Dean was going to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you thought! I hope you like it! New chapter will be up soon hopefully! <3 <3


	50. Boots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader figured out that she isn't entirely ready for the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

** Reader's POV **

            "Oh yeah..." Dean said, sighing as you stood there, staring down at your feet, slightly embarrassed. Sam was staring at you sympathetically, but not before you saw him try to stifle a laugh when he'd realized the issue. They had gotten you some clothes so that you didn't have to wear theirs anymore, but it wasn't exactly a proper wardrobe. All you had were a few shirts, jeans, and sweats, most of which didn't necessarily fit you the best. Now you were about to go on your first case, and you didn't have any shoes. Dean tried to take that as an opportunity to make another excuse as to why you should sit this one out, but the sad, frustrated look on your face was enough for him to drop his argument.

            It was weird being in the Impala again, and it was clear that both Sam and Dean felt that too with you there.

_"You need to think about what you're doing! This isn't you, Dean!" Sam shouted over the speaker of the phone._

_Dean grabbed you and bent you over the hood of his car._

They both knew what had happened here, and they knew from the look in your eyes that you were fighting to hold back the memories.

_"I know what'll make you scream baby." he said as he pulled out of you. Before you could figure out what he was talking about, you felt him push himself against your back entrance, no lube, nothing except whatever wetness he'd gathered from fucking you. You screamed so loud you thought there was no way that someone, somewhere, didn't hear you._

_"Ah, damn. You hear that Sammy?" Dean grunted as he mercilessly pounded into you._

            Your body began to shake, and you couldn't speak as you tried to hold back the tears, but you managed to get into the back seat and directed all of your focus to the little green army man that was wedged into the ashtray in the door. Sam got into the passenger seat and Dean sat behind the wheel. Sam's worried glances back at you didn't help as you struggled with yourself to maintain your calm. Dean didn't say a word, and he held a tight grip on the steering wheel. The air was thick with tension for most of the drive, and you were relieved when Dean stopped  in front of an Army Navy Surplus. He asked you your shoe sized and then quickly ran in, returning with a pair of black combat boots that fit you perfectly. It was so nice to have shoes again, you thought as you put them on, suddenly feeling a whole lot less vulnerable.

            Sam whispered something to Dean that you couldn't hear. But it was clearly about you based on the look Dean gave you in the rearview mirror. He stopped once more at the nearest department store, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. You waited, not understanding what was going on, and Dean reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pulled out a card and handed it back to you. Taking the card from Dean, you sat there, still completely confused as to what you were supposed to do.

"We need to make this quick, so take that and uh... Get anything you need... Clothes or whatever you want. There's plenty of money on it so don't worry." he said, not looking at you. A moment of clarity hit you, and you blushed dramatically as you realized what he'd meant, and why you were going by yourself.

            "Th-thank you." you said, getting out of the car and rushing into the store. You thought the cashier might give you a weird look when you handed her the card with a male's name on it, but she didn't seem concerned. She must have just assumed it was your boyfriend or husband's. You felt a million times more confident as you walked back out to the car with your bags. You'd gotten yourself a decent amount of underwear and a few bras, a pair of which you'd decided to put on in the bathroom before leaving the store.

            It was nice to be able to wear underwear again. Just like the boots, it made you feel a lot more comfortable and less vulnerable. You were trying to be quick, but you'd also grabbed some better fitting clothes as well as a flannel button up and a leather jacket, which seemed more practical than other options for what lay ahead. After that, it was about a 12 hour drive to Billings, MT. where the case was located. It didn't take quite that long since Dean didn't seem to have much regard for the speed limit. It was a wonder that you didn't get pulled over.

            He drove straight through, only stopping for gas and fast food. When you arrived at the cheap motel it was already getting late so there wasn't much they could do until morning. But Dean did decide to go and check out the nearby bar to see if he could get any information from the locals on the killings that have been happening. Sam and you stayed back at the motel. Dean had paid for an extra room for you, but, not wanting to be left alone while you waited for Dean, you stayed with Sam and helped him do research.

"Hey uh, Y/N..." Sam began, looking up from his computer. He looked as if he'd been holding something in for quite some time. "Are you umm... How are you doing?" he asked, appearing genuinely concerned about you.

"I'm alright... Really." you said, smiling back at him. It wasn't a complete lie, but honestly you'd been worse, so you decided it was a good enough answer. Sam, on the other hand, didn't seem entirely satisfied.

"I mean umm... How are you and Dean? Is everything okay between the two of you?" he asked, studying your face, his eyebrows knitted together with worry. "Because, I mean if you need to talk... I'm here."

Fidgeting with a pen on the table, you felt extremely awkward expressing your concerns out loud, and there were a lot of things you were definitely going to keep to yourself probably forever.

            "Thanks, Sam... I just... I just can't imagine what he, or even you, thinks of me after everything, but... I-I don't know... I-I'm just not sure how he sees me, and it... bothers me." you said, stammering way more than you'd hoped as you failed to string your words together properly. Everything that happened made you feel uncomfortable, embarrassed. It was more than just your trauma, it was the way they looked at you. It was the fact that they saw everything, knew everything. You had been so vulnerable, pathetic, and broken down. It made you want to curl up and disappear. Sam's hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your worrying thoughts.

            "None of it was your fault, Y/N... You do know that right?" he said, crouching next to your chair, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His waiting stare made you feel awkward as you just sat there, unable to say anything. You knew it wasn't your fault, but... There were things you could have done to avoid it, things you could have done differently. And it didn't matter if it wasn't your fault, that didn't change how ashamed you felt when they gave you those knowing looks.

"Nobody thinks any less of you for what you were put through. I can't imagine what that..." Sam seemed lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "And the way you're handling it, it just shows how strong you are."

"I should hate him.." you choked out, tears beginning to fill your eyes and cloud your vision. "But instead I...Why am I so weak?" you asked, looking to Sam for an explanation of your feelings.

"Listen... You have every reason in the world to hate my brother. The fact that you don't is... Well, I don't think Dean knows what to make of it. But it doesn't make you weak, trust me. I've been weak more times than I can count."

            Before you could continue the conversation, you heard the sound of the Impala's engine rolling up into the parking lot outside. Sam gave your shoulder one last comforting squeeze before standing up and returning to sit in front of his laptop on the other side of the table. Dean told Sam everything he'd learned at the bar, which was pretty much nothing since none of the patrons had any relation to the victims. Tired form the long drive, Sam and Dean decided it was time to call it a night so they could get an early start the next day.

            Dean went with you to your motel room, and you were relieved that he wasn't going to leave you by yourself that night. When you entered the room and Dean closed the door, you turned around only to find him staring at you, unmoving, in front of the door. His gaze made you uncomfortable and trying to think of an escape, you suggested that you were going to go and take a shower. Quickly, you headed to the bathroom pretending you didn't notice how he strange he was acting all of a sudden, and shut the door behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! The next chapter is pretty much done, so I'll have it up tomorrow!


	51. Make It Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has something he wants to discuss with the reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

** Reader's POV **

            After your shower, you realized that in your haste to avoid Dean's silent stare, you'd forgotten to bring in clothes to change into. _It's no big deal,_ you thought. _I'll just go out, grab my bag, and come right back. There's no reason for it to be weird._ You wrapped a towel around yourself and opened to the door. Dean was sitting on the end of the bed waiting for you quietly. When he saw you come out of the bathroom, it looked as if he was just going to continue simply watching you like he had before. But suddenly, he tore his gaze from you entirely.

"Hey uh... Sit down for a minute will you?" Dean said, nodding at the space on the edge of the bed beside him. You were feeling  more than a little uncomfortable in just your towel, but his tone suggested it was important and your desire to obey him outweighed your discomfort.

** Dean's POV **

            As she sat down next to Dean in nothing but her towel, he had trouble keeping his eyes off of her. But he couldn't get the cuts he'd found on her leg out of his mind. He reached his hand over slowly, and she tensed. Obviously this was starting to look like something it wasn't, but he just didn't know how to begin this conversation. He paused for a moment to let her know that he wasn't intending on hurting her.

            "Your leg..." he said, before gently brushing her upper thigh with his fingers. The towel had ridden up as she sat down and he could already see the edges of the marks she'd made on herself. They were on both legs, and easily distinguishable from all of her other scars that had already turned from red to white on her skin. She noticed where he was looking and quickly tried to adjust the towel to hide the scars, but he stopped her, moving his hand up her thigh to cover them with his own hand. She sat perfectly still. She seemed afraid to move as if she was waiting to see whether or not Dean was angry with her.

He w _as_ angry, but not with her. It was his fault. All of it was his fault. Not only had he caused this, but it was _his_ responsibility to watch her and protect her and he'd failed.

            "Where else?" He asked, staring down at his hand. Swallowing hard, she lifted a hesitant hand and pointed to her hip and then to area just below her breasts, in the same place where he'd carved hateful words into her skin. His eyes carefully followed her finger as she pointed to each spot. They were all in areas that he couldn't see without her being practically naked. Dean sat quietly for  a while longer, his hand still on her thigh as he tried to comprehend why she would intentionally add _more_ scars to her own body.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"N-no, I mean, not really." she said, and that had Dean even more confused.

"Why," he cleared his throat. "Why would you do that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She looked extremely embarrassed by the entire thing as she fidgeted with her hands in her lap.

            "I, umm... I... It's hard to explain." she said, her voice surprisingly calm and monotone. "It just... was _something..._ I just needed _something,_ and it... I had _control_ over myself... And the feeling... It gave me something to..." She fidgeted more, clearly struggling to find the words to something that there weren't really any words for. Even though her words didn't come out clearly, a new level of understanding hit Dean like a wave. He realized that she was far less different than him than he ever could have thought.

            Even if their coping mechanisms weren't perfectly aligned, they were on the same wave length. They both felt like they weren't good enough, like they had failed everything and everyone, like they had no control over themselves or the world around them. They were both terrified of being alone. And no matter what horrible things happened around them, the one they were always fighting with the most, was themselves, their own weaknesses, their own screwed up minds.

            "We'll find another way." He whispered, trying to express his understanding. She stared up at him, emotions swirling in her eyes. Without another thought, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Her hand landed on top of his against her thigh, and as she deepened the kiss, she squeezed his hand against her leg, silently urging him on. Dean took the cue and squeezed her thigh, kneading as he ran his thumb farther up under the hem of her towel

            Her own hand released his and moved up to his chest where she began unbuttoning his shirt. Dean felt a flare of desire course through him as she pressed close, kissing and undressing him. She pushed the shirt off of his shoulders and he let her take it off of him completely. Separating from their kiss, he sat up straight and pulled his t-shirt off over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Her soft hands hesitantly touched his skin and sent a shock of pleasure through him as she ran them up along his chest, then back down again, just enjoying the feeling of him. He could feel his pants becoming tight against his growing erection.

Dean reached a hand up to her chest where her towel was tucked into itself, but paused before continuing. He looked at her, searching her eyes for a sign that he was making a mistake but there was none.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning his forehead against hers. She stared up at him and nodded her head, giving her consent as she guided his hand the rest of the way.

            "Fix me." she whispered, and Dean's breath hitched as he gripped the edge of the towel between his fingers. He knew what she'd meant. She wanted him to give her back what he'd taken. She wanted him to make love to her, not fuck her. He destroyed her idea of intimacy, and his cruelty was the only example she'd ever had. She _needed_ him to make it right, and it had to be _him,_ even though he was the last person in the world who deserved it. Dean was going to show her was being cared for felt like. He wanted to show her that more than anything, because she _was_ cared for. Dean was going to do everything in his power to give her what she needed, what she deserved.  He had to make it right, and by whatever miracle, she was giving him that chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I made you wait for this one! I had it done already but I always get worried about whether or not it's ready and end up just reading it over and over trying to make sure it's okay. Please let me know what you think. Next chapter soon!!!


	52. Souls Entwined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean does everything he can to try and undo the mistakes he made with the reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            Dean carefully tugged on the edge of the towel just above your chest. Letting the loose fabric slip down your body left you naked from the waist up. Dean's eyes, filled with adoration, wandered down over your exposed skin. But his gaze halted when eyes landed on the word "Slut" carve into your skin. The word _he_ carved into you. There was a much newer red scar, that had been dug horizontally across the word, and he knew that it was you trying to erase what he'd done.

            Noticing his gaze, you flushed red. _That's what he thought of me then... And now?_ You thought as a feeling of shame washed over you and you tried to turn away. _My whole body is covered in scars. I must be hideous in his eyes._ But before you could shut down, Dean caught you by putting his hand on your chin and gently guiding you to look back at up him. He stared deeply into you for what felt like a long time.

            "You are so beautiful, Y/N." he said softly, making sure you caught every word before he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was deep, passionate, and you melted into it. It wasn't rough, but it was possessive. You felt a pulse of warmth pool in your core as you lost yourself in the taste of his lips. Dean pulled the towel out from under you, tossing it to the floor before sliding his big calloused hand slowly up your thigh.

            His finger grazed against your folds, and you gasped as a glimmer of panic shot through you. Breaking the kiss, your hand flew down to grip his in an effort to protect yourself. Dean's eyes filled with sympathy and he leaned forward, softly kissing your shoulder before continuing up your neck. His warm breath brushed against your skin until it was tickling your ear, and you loosened your grip on his hand.

            "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." he whispered, and you felt his stubble scrape softly against your cheek. "I'm going to take care of you, sweetheart. This is all about you." Again, he let his finger graze  lightly over your folds, and you shuttered as a wave of arousal travelled through your core. "I'm going to make you feel so good, baby."

            You allowed yourself to relax as Dean gently kissed and nipped at your neck, and began softly circling his thumb over your clit, just barely touching at all but still making your breath hitch at the amazing sensation. Reaching out your hand, you gripped the back of Dean's neck, running your fingers through his hair. He kissed and licked his way down your collarbone and over your breasts, letting his mouth settle over your nipple. He ran his free hand up your side, and gently grasped your other breast. Teasing and pinching one nipple with his fingers, he ran his tongue over the other, licking and sucking and nibbling until you were putty in his arms.

            At the same time, he added more pressure to your clit, and you let a soft desperate moan escape your lips. Dean teased you like that a while longer before slowly inserting a finger into your tight entrance. You wrapped both of your arms around his shoulders as he leaned into you, forcing you to lay back on the bed. Removing his mouth from your nipple, he looked up at you with lust blown eyes as he inserted a second digit. He curled his fingers upward, hitting that special spot inside of you. His eyes bore into yours and his breathing grew heavy as he watched you writhing, whimpering beneath him. You dug your fingers into his shoulders clinging to him for dear life as he expertly hit your sweet spot over and over again.

            Gently, he removed his fingers from your wet heat, making you gasp at the sudden loss. Dean brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked your juices off of them, relishing in your taste. He got up off of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Dean never took his eyes off of you as he began trailing warm kisses down past your navel. He continued, his soft lips caressing your hips, and then trailing down your inner thighs. Afterwards, he let his face settle just above your center, and you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive area.

            "Please." you whispered almost involuntarily, gripping his hair in your fist as you tried to make him close the distance. He didn't make you ask again as he grasped your thighs and dove right in. His tongue running trails up and down your folds before suckling on your clit. Your hips bucked upwards towards his mouth and he pressed a hand against your abdomen, holding you down. He took his other hand and pushed two digits inside of you, quickly followed by a third, as his tongue worked continuously.

            Dean didn't seem to mind the way you pulled his hair and pushed him harder against you. Your other hand was clinging desperately to the sheets as you felt the building coil inside you about to spring free.

"I-I'm...I... D-don't stop."

            "Wanna hear you say my name, sweetheart." Dean said, before he returned his mouth to you and began to hum, causing vibrations against your skin.

            "D-Dean... Please, Dean." You chanted breathlessly. He groaned at the sound, and then flicked his tongue in rough circles against your clit, at the same time, curling his fingers inside of you. Your back arched, and you let out a guttural moan as you came apart at the seams. Dean kept you pinned in place and continued licking you through your orgasm, gradually slowing his pace, and removing his fingers as you began to come down from your high.

            Dean stood up, and you sat forward to reach for him. Your hands smoothed down his chest, over his hard muscles before landing on his belt. There was a part of you that wasn't sure you could handle watching him remove it himself. Seeing the belt in his hands while you sat there naked might send memories flooding back, and you didn't want that. You wanted Dean.

            He let you undo his belt buckle and tug the belt loose before dropping it to the floor. Next you reached back to his jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them with his boxers down just enough for his large erection to spring free in front of you. He shoved his pants down the rest of the way, and stepped out of them.  Your hand wrapped around his hard length and he groaned and pressed his hips into your touch. But when you leaned forward to take him in your mouth, he stopped you with a thumb over your lips.

"No, sweetheart." he said, his voice coming out huskily as he gently pushed you backwards again. "I want you to let _me_ take care of _you_ tonight."

            He crawled over you, slipping an arm behind your back and lifting as he easily maneuvered your body farther back onto the bed. He hovered over you, kissing up your collar bone and along your shoulders before coming up and settling his lips onto yours, letting you taste yourself on him.

            Gripping his upper arms, you leaned forward and peppered kisses across his chest. He tilted his head to the side as you kissed up along the side of his neck before lightly sinking your teeth into his skin. He moaned and pushed you back down onto the bed. Dean's eyes were dark and full of lust to match yours as he looked at you. Keeping his eyes glued to yours, he lined himself up between your legs, rubbing the head against your, already wet, folds.

"Dean." you whispered breathlessly, already sensitive from your last orgasm you needed to feel him inside of you. But even though you desperately wanted it, your body had begun trembling beneath him. This part always hurt in the past, and you were afraid. Dean saw your hesitation, and kissed you on the forehead before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

            "I won't hurt you, honey. I promise." he whispered. "You're in control" he said as he leaned back just enough to gaze into your eyes, showing deep sincerity in his own. Swallowing hard, you nodded and raised your hips in encouragement. Dean pushed inside you ever so slowly as you gripped his shoulders tightly, leaving marks on his skin. He hadn't lied. The pleasure was intense as you felt his ridges sliding against your walls while you stretched around his thick length.

            You whimpered, and he moaned against your hair as he sunk himself all the way inside of you to the hilt. Both of you held still for a moment as you lay there feeling him inside of you, and allowing your body to adjust to his size. Dean began to slowly pull back out, stopping just short of leaving you empty. He  studied your eyes, making sure that you were completely okay with this, and when you smiled up at him, he quickly pushed back into you, causing a loud moan to escape your lips, which he quickly muffled by capturing your mouth with his.

            He began a steady pace, and you desperately clung to him, intense pleasure beginning to coil inside of you a second time.

"Y/N." he whispered as he gave you a pleading look, and you knew he was close as well. The sound of your name on his lips brought you right to the edge, and you wrapped your legs around him, holding him close as he rocked into you.

            "God, Dean." you muttered as you dug your nails into his back, leaving red marks. Dean began pounding into you harder and faster, making you cry out as you chanted his name. He hit your sweet spot over and over and you couldn't take it anymore as you were sent flying over the edge, his name still on your lips. In the middle of your orgasm, you felt his pace becoming erratic and  he let out a loud moan of his own as he came, spilling his warm seed deep inside of you.

            Once you had both finished, Dean gently pulled out and rolled onto his back next to you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him, kissing you before letting you rest your head on his chest. He kissed the top of your head as his fingers glided softly up and down your back, and yours drew little circles on his chest. Your legs entwined with his as you both lay there in total bliss. Dean's fingers began to slowly trace the outline of his initials branded onto your back.

"If you want." he began, clearing his throat. "Cas has his grace back, so he can get rid of all of your scars... Even this one." You could've sworn there was a stroke of sadness in his voice at the last part. The thought of losing that mark suddenly made you feel uncomfortable.

_What's wrong with me?_ you thought as you realized you wanted to keep it. You didn't want Dean's name erased from your body. You wanted to be _his._

_He feels guilty about what he did, but that doesn't mean he loves me... I can't assume that this is going anywhere. He'll think I'm crazy if I say I want to keep his name etched into my skin._

"Y/N?" he asked quietly, interrupting your thoughts.

"I-..." you said, not knowing how to explain what you wanted to explain. "D-do you think I should?" you asked instead.

Dean seemed taken aback by your question as he looked down at you.

** Dean's POV **

            Dean didn't know how to answer her question. _She wants to know if I think she should have her scars healed? Why does it matter what I think?_

"Y/N... You know... You know it's your decision, right? It's your body, and you didn't deserve the damage I did to it...But uh..."

_I want you to keep the brand. What the fuck is wrong with me? I can't tell her that. She needed me to help her overcome the damage I caused, and she miraculously allowed me to have her tonight even though I had no right. But she can't love me... I can't ask her to stay with me. All I can do is pray for her forgiveness, and nothing else._

"I just... You deserve to be happy." Dean said. He cleared his throat, deciding not to say any more as he held Y/N tighter against him like she was going to slip away at any moment.

** Reader's POV **

            _You make me happy,_ you responded silently in your head as you nuzzled closer to him. The warmth of his skin and the sound of his heart beating made you feel at peace, and soon you began to drift off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you thought! The story isn't over yet! New chapter soon! :)


	53. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is confronted with someone from her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!
> 
> Sorry this took so long! Real life stuff happened, plus I've been super sick, and somewhere in there I lost my confidence in my writing and was too nervous to post anything.

            The fabric felt so nice against your naked skin as you moved your legs around under the sheets of the bed where you and Dean had fallen asleep last night. Not ready to get up yet, you began fanning your leg out to seek out the warmth of the man beside you. When you couldn't find him, you rolled over and reached out your arm, and again felt nothing. You groggily opened your eyes to see nothing but empty space on Dean's side of the bed, and you let out a whine of disappointment. Sitting up, you held the sheet against your body to cover yourself and swung your legs over the side of the bed.

"Hello, little dove."

That thick British accent, the black suit, and the smug demeanor was something you'd hoped to never encounter again.

_Crowley._

He was standing in front of the door, the surprise on his face quickly dissipating and being replaced with an amused smirk.

"It would seem that Dean decided to keep his little play-thing after all. I had hoped we could get together again for another pleasant evening." He said, nodding his head politely, but his eyes had a dark gleam in them.

            Frozen, you stared up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Nothing could have prepared you to come face to face with this man, the so-called "King of Hell", at a motel in Billings, Montana. And to top it off, you were completely naked except for the sheet wrapped around your body. You wanted to run but there was nowhere to go and he was blocking the only exit. Besides, you weren't sure if your body would cooperate. You felt paralyzed at the sight of him.

"Crowley, what the hell!" Dean shouted, quickly rushing out of the bathroom.

"Squirrel! I didn't mean to interrupt your... whatever this is." He said to Dean, but kept his eyes locked with yours. Dean looked back and forth between the two of you before reaching for his gun.

"Alright, you son of a bitch, you have exactly five seconds to tell me what the fuck you're doing here." said Dean, glaring angrily at Crowley and successfully drawing his attention away from you.

Crowley scoffed and took a few casual steps towards the two of you.

"After all we've been through together, all those... Bromantic evenings full of karaoke, booze, and murder... This is how you treat me? I must say I'm a tad bit offended."

"I said, what do you want, Crowley." Dean snapped, more aggressively as he moved to stand between Crowley and the bed where you were sitting. Crowley glanced at you thoughtfully before returning his gaze to Dean.

"I just thought I would let you know that the demons you were hunting in this town shan't concern you anymore."

"Oh and why is that?" Dean asked, not letting his guard down.

"Because," said Crowley who began lazily strolling around the edge of the room. "They're dead."

"You see," Crowley continued, "your little display at the bar resulted in some irritating rumors regarding my ability to rule. And let's just say it left me with a bit of a mess to clean up."

You listened quietly, completely lost as to what was going on, and extremely uncomfortable with Crowley being in the same room as you.

"Alright, so you killed some rogue demons. Good for you. We done here or do you want a medal?" Dean said, getting impatient.

            "I just so happen to have some information that a little birdie told me might be of value to you." said Crowley, pausing deliberately to fill you both with anticipation. "It seems you are already acquainted with the next demon on my _naughty_ list."  Crowley quickly glanced at you before driving his point home. "Y/N here makes quite the movie star." You stopped breathing at his last comment.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean growled, moving threateningly towards Crowley who immediately shot his hands up in front of him and took a step back.

"Easy there, Bruce." said Crowley. "I assure you, I had nothing to do with that." Dean stopped his advance, but did not look any less angry.

            "Back to my point. Seeing as," he gestured to himself. "I need him dead, and I'm guessing you _want_  him dead after what he did to this...sweet young lady..." He gestured at you. "I thought it might be in our best interests to help each other out."

"What's your game Crowley?" Dean asked, his fists clenching.

"No game. It's simple really. I give you the location of said demon, and you run him through with that pesky little demon killing blade you're so fond of waving around. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. We both get what we want."

Dean looked at you, sitting on the bed, sheet clutched tightly against your chest. He looked like he was trying to find the catch to Crowley's offer but just couldn't.

"Fine." said Dean. "Start talking."

________________________

            "And you _trust_ him? ...Crowley?" Sam asked with disbelief as he finished packing up his laptop and the rest of his things to take out to the car. You were just happy that Crowley had left and you were wearing clothes.

            "No, I don't trust him!" said Dean. "But I don't see a reason for him to lie either. Shit, it's my fault that bastard demon is still alive anyway, so if Crowley says he knows where he is, there's no way we're not checking it out." Sam sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair, looking defeated.

"Alright... So Arvada, Colorado it is then." said Sam.

" _After_ we drop Y/N off at the bunker." said Dean.

"No." the word slipped out of your mouth before you could even think about it.

"Excuse me?" Dean said, crossing his arms.

            "I-uhh..." you cleared your throat and raised your chin defiantly as you readied your argument. "You're not leaving me alone again. We don't have time for that kind of detour. I'll never be safe until he's dead, regardless, and if we lose him then what? Besides, I was promised my first hunt. And most of all...he's _my_ kill." The words poured out of your mouth in such a rush it shocked even you. But you continued to hold your gaze steady with Dean's, fists clenched at your sides. This was your decision and no way were you going to back down from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think so far and if you like this chapter or think maybe it needs some work. I'm also debating doing a Dean POV of this part as well, but I'm not sure yet! <3 Again, I'm very sorry for the wait! I love you SpnFam!


	54. Fate Pending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!  
> I still can't breathe out my nose, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to write!

** Dean's POV **

            Y/N was exceedingly quiet ever since Crowley's visit. _Or ever since last night,_ Dean thought to himself. He kept peeking at her through his rearview mirror, and couldn't stop wondering what she was thinking about as she sat staring out the window in the backseat of the Impala. When Sam began to quiz her and go over everything they taught her about demons and how to deal with them, she still only spoke enough to answer each question with as few words as possible. Dean would have given just about anything if only to get a small glimpse at whatever was running through her mind.

An uninvited image of Y/N having her neck snapped by a demon wriggled its way into Dean's mind, and he had to fight to take his focus off of it and stop the image from staying on repeat.

 _She's not ready,_ he thought. _Why are you bringing her, you dumbass? She could die. One second is all it would take. It will be your fault. You were supposed to protect her._

 _What am I supposed to do, tie her up?_ he argued silently with himself. It wouldn't be the first time he handcuffed a stubborn tag along to the door handle in order to keep them out of harm's way. He toyed with the idea for a minute, but he wasn't sure if that would really be the best route. _Do I even have the right to keep her out of this? She deserves to kill the bastard more than anyone._  If he keeps her close to him, he can protect her, so maybe that's what he should do; never let her out of his sight... But that makes her a liability.

 _How can I focus on fighting if I'm too worried about watching her? That could get us both killed! Besides,_ _I'm the reason that asshole is still alive. It's my responsibility to finish the job. How can I forgive myself if she dies because of my mistakes?_

_No, she wants this._

_But she's not ready. When Crowley showed up at the motel, she completely froze._ Remembering the fact that Crowley had also violated Y/N  in the past just made him even more angry.

_What if this is a trick and Crowley lied? We could be walking into a trap. He wasn't exactly happy with me after that incident at the bar. That was the whole reason he told Sam where to find me when I was a demon in the first place. All because I didn't want to go along with his plans and play ruler of hell with him. The whole scene felt more like a weird break up, like something from Days of Our Lives or some shit._

The entire thing was giving him a headache, all of it, and he decided to put off thinking about it for the moment.

** Reader's POV **

            There was an air of tension throughout the first half of the drive. Neither you or Dean had said a word to each other since he agreed to let you go with them. What truly bothered you about it was the fact that you had just an intimate night and there was no discussion or acknowledgement of it. It was almost like it never happened. Urgent matters had come up, what with Crowley appearing in their motel room and all, but it didn't make you feel any less insecure about the whole ordeal.  

            Dean didn't seem happy, and it was hard not to assume some of it fell on you, especially when you kept catching him stealing glances at you in the rearview mirror with that unreadable expression on his face. Sam had tried a few times to fill the awkward silence by discussing demon lore and what you needed to be prepared for in the coming day, which was something you were grateful for. The idea that you were in a car speeding towards the very monsters that haunt you at night, one of whom for good reason, was starting to slowly sink in and that was making you nervous. The closer you got to your destination, the less you thought about Dean and your relationship, and the more you thought about the evil you were walking into.

            It wasn't until Dean had pulled into the parking lot of the motel you would be staying at that an inescapable feeling of dread began climbing its way up your spine and muddling your brain with all of the deadly possibilities. There was a part of you that wanted to change your mind, to ask Dean to take you far away from here. But if they did that, you would be left alone. The demon might move on, never to be caught. Worst of all, if you ran away, you would have to live the rest of your life knowing that you will _always_ be weak and pathetic. You will _always_ be someone's victim and someone else's burden. The fear began to eat away at you, but there was no turning back now.

 _Is that courage or pride?_ you wondered cynically.

            This time the three of you checked into a single room with two queen sized beds. It was the cheaper option, and this way everyone was together incase anything happened. This wasn't a "simple salt and burn" as Sam and Dean call it, nor was it a vacation. This was it. This was the last of the demons who raped and tried to murder you... Excluding Dean and the King of Hell, but there was nothing to be done about those technicalities right now. With Dean it was much more complicated than that, and as for Crowley... Killing him didn't sound like it was much of an option right now for more reasons than you were probably aware of. You just hoped to God you'd never have to see him again.

 _Because God has taken such good care of me so far,_ you thought, not bothering to feel bad about the sarcasm that _nobody_ would hear anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh I'm getting nervous. Can you feel it? The impending whatever? Too much pressure, I quit! *runs away*
> 
> I'm kidding, I can't quit now. I would hate myself forever. <3  
> Tell me what you thought of this chapter and what you hope to see in the next few upcoming chapters! Or even the endings you hope for!  
> Thanks for reading, and for your beautiful and kind comments! New chapter soon! ^_^


	55. Roadhouse Emeralds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and the Reader arrive in Arvada, CO. The hunt begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            "How the hell are we supposed to know where to look?" Dean grumbled over Sam's shoulder as Sam searched news articles and maps of the surrounding areas on his laptop for any idea of where to begin their search for the demon. Arvada was pleasant little suburban town just north of downtown Denver and east of the Rocky Mountains, both of which could be seen in the distance when no trees or buildings were blocking the view. The crime rate was pretty low, and to be honest, it didn't seem like the kind of place a demon would want to hang around, especially if he didn't want to draw any attention.

            "No cattle deaths, no unusual news stories, uhh...Wait, only one homicide reported within the city limits in the last _year_ , and that was..." Sam continued skimming the page. " _yesterday morning_... A body was found burned beyond recognition near Ralston Creek." Sam said. "Think our demon did it?"

"First homicide this year in the last 24 hours in the middle of the place we're looking? Coincidences like that don't just happen." said Dean. Sam shrugged his agreement, still focused on the screen in front of him.

"Alright, well it runs directly across the center of the city, and the spot where the body was found is just a few miles from here"

            "Awesome. Sounds like a start to me! Let's get moving." Dean said, jumping to his feet and throwing on his jacket, more than a little impatient with sitting around. When the three of you arrived at the police station you had to stay behind in the car since you couldn't exactly pose as law enforcement without a proper fake I.D like the boys had.

"Well that's just fan-fuckin'-tastic." Dean said slamming the door in frustration as he and Sam got back into the Impala. Your brow creased with curiosity, but before you could ask what happened, Sam was already explaining.

"The body has _yet_ to be identified, there are _no_ missing persons reports matching the vic, and there were _no_ witnesses to what happened." Sam sighed, though not nearly as frustrated as Dean.

            A little off-put by his anger, you reached out tentatively, as if you were afraid you might get bitten, and lightly rested your hand on his shoulder. To your surprise, Dean relaxed a little at the contact and you could feel some of the tension leaving his muscles. Turning his head, he looked over at where you hand was resting before glancing up at you through the rearview mirror.

"...What do we do now?" you asked quietly, not actually feeling fearful, but still put on edge by even such a small display of aggression. Scolding yourself for your involuntary and _"unnecessary"_ reaction, you tried to shrug off the feeling of unease.

Dean ran a hand down over his face and gave Sam a serious look before turning the key in the ignition. It wasn't until the car started moving that he responded to your question.

"We're going to scope out the crime scene, see if we can find any clues. Then we'll check out what's in the surrounding area; bars, warehouses, anywhere this dick-head might be hiding or getting his kicks at." said Dean as he turned out of the parking lot and sped down the road.

            There was definitely sulfur residue around where the victim's body was found, confirming that it was most definitely a demon, but otherwise found nothing to suggest where he might be or if there were more of them. After an unproductive couple of hours, you found yourself sitting at a table with the two brothers in the only dive-bar in the area. There were no warehouses or abandoned buildings anywhere close by, so Dean suggested that it couldn't hurt to stake this place out. Considering the lack of options and useful information gathered today, it seemed like the best idea as far as guessing goes. Though you weren't entirely convinced he chose this place purely out of intelligent deduction and not because he needed a drink and this is the exact type of place he liked to spend his free-time. Not that you were complaining. A drink sounded pretty good right about now.

            The definitely had a "divey" feel to it. It wasn't dirty or anything. It was a pretty small place, with a couple of pool tables in the center, and a small stage for live music in the far corner. It had street signs and classic rock n' roll posters decorating the walls. The carpet was a faded red color and had an old retro pattern on it. Bands like Motorhead and Bon Jovi played over the speakers, definitely Dean's kind of music. And most of the crowd was older, mid-thirties to fifties; many of whom had tattoos. The place also had a definite musty smell, not displeasing, just distinctive. It very much resembled what you'd imagined a biker bar would look like.

            The three of you sat in a booth in the far back corner of the room, with you in between the two men. It was the perfect spot vantage point to sit and keep an eye on the rest of the room. The boys had a few beers, Dean more than Sam, but not so much as to effect their alertness. They were still on the job, and even during idle chatter their eyes would regularly survey the room, keeping careful tabs on everything around them and everyone who came in or out of the bar. Following suit, you paced yourself, cutting yourself off after two drinks. It was just enough to relieve some of the tension in your shoulders without totally inebriating you.

            Your fears about how Dean may have felt about last night died down a bit when you felt him snake his arm around your waist. For a moment, you tensed at the sudden intimate contact. But as you turned your head and saw Dean smiling down at you, those charming crinkles forming on the sides of his eyes as he raised his beer to his lips, you allowed yourself to melt against his side.

_Damn, he really is beautiful,_ you thought to yourself as you blushed and quickly turned your gaze away from his striking green eyes and back to the drink in front of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sneakily posts chapter and tiptoes away hoping nobody notices how long that took to post*
> 
> *whistles and acts natural*
> 
> <3


	56. The Pseudobulbar Affect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and the reader continue to stake out the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            After a little while you started to feel tired. Sitting around and waiting on the slim chance that the guy you're searching for will happen to walk into the same place you're sitting can get very boring and uninspiring after a time. It was clear that Sam was feeling the same way as he yawned and stretched his arms. It seemed like he was about to stand up and suggest we call it a night and head back to the room when something caught his eye. He suddenly looked very serious and exchanged a look with Dean who nodded sharply.

            You felt very left out of whatever was happening since you didn't notice anything strange going on. Dean nudged you slightly and you realized you were making your confusion a little too obvious as you scanned the room. It was difficult to sit there and not demand to know what you were missing, but both Sam and Dean looked very focused, and didn't seem like they had any intention of explaining it to you right then.

            Trying to follow their gazes, you saw a man near the end of the bar flirting with very scantily clad woman. This was a dive bar, so that didn't seem like a very out of place scenario, but it was the only thing they could have been looking at as far as you could tell. The man was probably middle-aged. He wore a brown leather jacket and had short black hair, with just a hint of grey. He looked like he fit right in with the kind of crowd this place attracted. _They must have noticed something that I didn't,_ you decided.

            The three of you sat and watched the man flirt and buy drinks for the woman for the better part of a half hour before he finally got up to move. He draped his hand across the back of the woman's neck possessively and escorted her across the bar. On cue, Dean and Sam both stood and followed the couple out the door, with you tagging along quickly behind them.

_This is it,_ you thought, suddenly alert and filled with anxiety. As much as you trusted Sam and Dean, the knowledge that you were chasing after a demon, who could probably kill you without breaking a sweat made it hard to contain your rising panic. Once outside, the couple disappeared around the corner off behind the building next to the bar. Dean and Sam followed quickly and quietly, no hesitation or fear present in their eyes, just intense focus. When they were about to turn the corner, whatever bravery you had inside of you instantly drained away and you grabbed Dean by the sleeve of his jacket.

            Dean stopped and turned to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. His other hand moved to his mouth and he pressed a finger in front of his lips to signal you to keep quiet. He wanted you to stay put. For a moment, you complied, but as soon as the boys vanished around the corner, you felt more vulnerable and alone than you could handle. Forcing your feet to move, forward, you rushed after them. The alley along the side of the building was dark and empty except for a large dumpster and two shadows moving against the brick wall.

Sam pulled out his demon knife, and Dean gripped The First Blade tightly. You didn't know Dean still had that knife. This was the first time you'd seen that weapon since...

_The sharp bone slicing across your skin, pressing against your throat. The demon pressing it against you._

_No._

_No, stop._ You forced yourself peel your eyes away from the blade and back to the shapes you were quickly encroaching on in the darkness. A whimpering sound escaped from one of the two shadows as the three of you closed in. They held their weapons at the ready and Sam and Dean approached the figures. They were about to murder someone. The thought flickered in your mind for the first time since you began following the strangers. It wasn't something you didn't know, but thinking about it now, knowing it was about to happen, made you feel very strange. Demons deserve to die. You know that, and had nothing against the killing... But it was still a strange feeling. Not fear, not guilt, not gratification, but simply strange. It's not something most people ever have to think about so you weren't prepared for it.

            Suddenly they stopped in their tracks and backed against the wall beside you, the knives disappearing out of view. Confused by their behavior, you peered around from behind Dean and realized what was happening. The man wasn't a demon. They were just two drunk people having sloppy sex against the side of a building. All the built up fear and stress  of the moment rushed out of you and suddenly the whole thing seemed hilariously ridiculous. Much to your immediate embarrassment, a surprisingly loud laugh escaped past your lips. It shocked you about as much as it did everyone else. The woman gasped, and the man cursed as they quickly tried to cover up their activities. Sam and Dean both looked at you like you were psychotic.

_To be fair, I think I might be psychotic too..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Tell me what you think. Sorry I've been slow, don't hate me! I love you!  
> And ahhh! 80,000 words! Whoa! New chapter soon!


	57. Experience and Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and the Winchesters head back to their motel for the night after their failed attempt at finding a demon at the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3

            It was mostly silent as Sam, Dean, and you, headed back to your motel. Dean hadn't bothered to take the Impala since the bar was such a short walk from where you guys were staying. Dean always seemed to find the motels closest to his kind of dive bar. Neither Sam nor Dean bothered discussing what had happened earlier, or what had lead them to mistakenly suspect that man at the bar of being a demon. _Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, right?_ You were all completely exhausted. It had been a long day since Crowley appeared in front of you in your motel room in Montana that morning. Thanks to that whole encounter with him, the long drive down to Colorado, and the  fact that you were grasping at straws all day trying to find a lead on the demon, none of you felt much like talking.

            You trudged along on the sidewalk behind the brothers, wanting nothing more than to curl up in your motel bed with Dean's arms wrapped possessively around you. Smiling to yourself  involuntarily, you wondered if that's what would happen tonight. But you smile only lasted a second as you worked the logic in your mind. He didn't seem to be one for actual romance, or committed relationships, and you felt like when compared to someone as strong, beautiful, confident, and terrifying as him, you left a lot to be desired. Dean went after the gorgeous women, and even with them he never stuck around long, preferring one-night stands.

_Then again... That was demon Dean. I have to stop mixing them up, it's not fair._

_But a man like him with his charm, his personality, and the lifestyle he lives... that isn't exactly an unlikely guess,_ you told yourself.

            Sam slid the key-card into the slot above the door handle to the room you would all be sharing and pushed open the door. Everything that followed seemed to be in slow-motion, but was over in seconds. The door swung open and a man appeared, standing just inside. He had a gun raised, aiming directly at Sam's head. A clicking sound made you turn to see Dean standing with his hands raised in surrender. There was a woman standing behind Dean with her own gun pushing against his back.

            In less than an instant your mind took in the entire situation and felt the dread of knowing what would happen next. But before your brain could even fully process, everything was moving again. Dean spun around, knocking the gun out of the woman's hand. A gunshot went off. Sam had managed to deflect the gun pointed at him but grabbing the man's arm, and a wild shot left the barrel, missing it's mark. You shrieked at the noise, covering your ears and crouching down close to the ground. Sam used the man's arm to pull himself closer as he plunged his demon blade into the man's chest. A bright yellow flashing light erupted from the man's eyes and mouth as he opened his mouth to scream, but instead of a scream it was just this low guttural moan. The light ceased and the man slumped to the ground.

_Dean. Where is Dean?!_

Turning your head, you saw him standing behind the woman. He had her arm pinned behind her back with one hand and held the first blade to her throat with the other.

            It was all over before it really began. So much had happened in what could have only been a few seconds, yet you hadn't even had time to panic, let alone react. Seeing how quickly and precisely the boys responded and turned the situation into their favor was beyond astonishing. When people imagine scary or violent situations, they always like to imagine how they would react, what they could do to protect themselves or turn the tables. But when the situation actually happens, and you're in that moment where a split-second feels like an eternity but really isn't, all of those plans, those oh so obvious choices, disappear. At least for most people...For you. But Sam and Dean Winchester, no, they aren't like most people. They react so quickly and decisively without even having to think about it. The Winchesters are so attuned to this lifestyle they lead, that it's like a second nature to them. Developing that kind of instinct takes more than just sweat and a little practice. They are warriors. And being a warrior comes at a high price.

            ___________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that was short. Because of what's happening next chapter, I wanted it to be separated.  
> I love you all. I'm so sorry I failed at my daily updates. I hope you enjoy this.  
> I hope to have the next chapter up soon! <3 Thanks so much for following me thus far.


	58. Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have captured a demon, and plan to interrogate her for information on the demon they've been hunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!

** Dean's POV **

            The three of them were gathered in a small warehouse only a few miles from the motel. In the center of the room, the demon woman that had attacked them was bound tightly to a chair, and a devil's trap was painted on the floor beneath her. Her head drooped and bobbed, strands of her black hair dangling in front of her face. She had blood trickling down her chin, and in that moment she appeared completely human. She wasn't, of course, and Dean knew that. Her body had some kind of stab wound in her midsection, which was clearly old and never treated properly. The host of that body was dead, and nobody but that demon was occupying it.

            Dean learned at a young age to be able to mentally separate the human form from the human soul. Though she looked like an innocent young woman, that part of her was long gone. The only soul left was twisted, demonic, evil.

            Dean felt the tingling burn on the Mark of Cain on the inside of his forearm. Killings monsters was his job. It was always his job. He never felt guilty about destroying evil. He also couldn't lie and say he didn't even get some sadistic satisfaction out of decapitating a vampire, or stabbing a werewolf in the heart with a silver blade. He was a warrior. His father molded him into a warrior since he was 4 years old. Fighting the good fight always made him feel alive. It's what he was born to do.

_"Dean."_

            But the Mark twisted that. The Mark didn't care about killing monsters or humans or what have you, as long as something was dying bloody. It made Dean want the same. Seeing that evil son of a bitch tied up in that chair, watching the blood trickle down her face, sent a fire burning through him that was difficult to control. He wanted to tear her apart, piece by piece. He wanted to hear her screams and watch as the last bit of life dissipated from her eyes.

"Dean!"

            Sam's voice cut through his haze and Dean's head snapped up to look at his brother. Sam was staring at him, his eyebrows knitted together with worry. Looking down, Dean realized he had his own hand gripped tightly over the Mark. The arm that bore it was tense and trembling.

"Dean... Let me do it." Sam said firmly, pulling out his demon killing blade and gesturing for Dean to step back.

            Nodding, Dean didn't argue as he moved away from the demon they'd captured. He continued rubbing the Mark on his arm as if he could simply massage it away. If only it were that easy.

Dean watched as Sam approached the demon in the chair. She guffawed loudly, startling all of them.

"Aw, how cute." She said in a mocking baby voice. "Poor little Sammy trying to protect his big brother. Afraid he's going to turn into one of us." she continued, tilting her head to the side as she looked at Dean. "Oh, oops... Too late!"

Sam hit her hard with a right hook across her cheek, causing her head to snap to the side. The demon's mouth filled with blood and spat it out on the ground in front of her before laughing again.

"Oh, touchy." She said, sneering up at Sam. He reached out and gripped her tightly by her chin and leaned in closely. Dean saw her eyes suddenly lock onto something behind him. It was Y/N. He'd almost forgotten she was there.

"Oh hey, if it isn't the little porn star." she said, blatantly ignoring Sam, whose hand was still roughly gripping her face.

            Dean rushed forward, shoving Sam out of the way, pulling the first blade so quickly it looked as if it had just appeared in his hand by magic. Without hesitating, he stabbed the blade into the side of her left arm, causing the demon to let out an agonizing scream. The Mark pulsed and his vision began to cloud. If Sam hadn't intervened, Dean would have torn her apart. He felt his little brother gripping his arm, tugging at him while yelling his name.

            "Dean. Dean, stop!" Sam said as Dean finally reacted to the sound of his voice and let himself be pulled away from the woman. He turned away and stormed towards the back of the room. Y/N's eyes locked with his and he could see the fear in her eyes as he approached. He brushed right past her without stopping and slammed his fist into the concrete wall. Pain shot through his arm, but he didn't care. He welcomed the sensation, anything to distract from what the Mark, what that bitch, was doing to him.

            Again, Sam grabbed the demon by the jaw and roughly jerked her head to face him as he leaned in so close their lips were almost touching.

"You're going to answer our questions... And then we're going to kill you." he hissed.

The demon laughed at the threat, but winced when the pain flared from where Dean had stabbed her.

"And... Why exactly would I do that?" she said. "If you're going to kill me anyway. What's my incentive?"

"Your incentive," Sam responded. "is that the sooner you talk, the less painful it's going to be for you."

            He released her face and reached into his pocket, pulling out a flask of holy water and unscrewing the lid. Dean almost smiled when he saw her face drop as she finally realized exactly what kind of situation she was in.

** Reader's POV **

            Sam splashed holy water across the demon's face, making her growl and hiss from the pain as smoke rose from her burning skin. You could feel Dean's presence behind you as he returned from his spot by the wall. When you turned to look at him, his eyes were focused on Sam and the demon he was interrogating. Hesitantly, you reached out and touched his arm. When he didn't react, you gently lifted his wrist, pulling him up close to your face so you could inspect his bloodied hand. If he were a normal human, his knuckles would have shattered against the concrete, but instead it looked like it was already beginning to heal the damage. Without thinking, you pressed your lips ever so softly against the skin where his hand had struck the wall.

            When you drew away and looked up at Dean, his green eyes were staring down at you coated in a mix of shock and sadness. Without a word, Dean wrapped his other arm around you and escorted you to the door of the warehouse, and outside where the Impala was parked.

            Dean retracted his arm from you and leaned his back up against the passenger door of the Impala. He stood silently, staring down at the concrete as he flexed the fingers of his damaged hand. A sound screech of a female voice sounded suddenly from the inside of the warehouse and you immediately turned back to go inside and check on Sam. But before you could take a single step towards the door, a hand gripped onto your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

            "Don't." Dean said in a low voice, his hand firmly holding you in place. His eyes were still cast downward at the concrete as he said this. Again a pained woman's voice sounded from behind the door, and Dean's demeanor didn't waver, nor did his gaze lift from the ground or his hand loosen its grip on your arm.

            It was strange, listening to someone being tortured no more than ten yards from where you were standing. You weren't sure why you felt so strongly compelled to go back inside. _To watch? To try and stop it?_ The idea that someone was going to die bothered you greatly. You wanted it to stop. In every single way it sounded like a human woman was suffering. _Isn't that wrong?_ But still, you wanted the monster in that room to suffer. _Is that wrong?_

"She-"

"Sam's got it." Dean interrupted, remaining still as a statue. It was impossible to know what was going on in that mind of his.

 You cleared your throat as you looked back and forth between Dean and the door before beginning again.

            "She's evil, right?" you asked. Your voice barely above a whisper yet it seemed to loud as the two of you stood alone in the empty night. "She... It's not human? She can't be helped?" You continued. It wasn't something you needed to ask because you already should have known the answer, but you just needed to hear it.

For the first time since he'd dragged you outside, Dean's gaze shifted to meet yours. He looked... tired.

"Yeah." he said. "The woman is dead. It's just a monster now". The way he stared at you made you feel frozen, unable to move as you searched his eyes, trying to understand this unnaturally perplexing man.

            Another scream echoed from behind the door, instantly drawing you attention. But as you turned to look, you felt Dean reel you in, pulling you flush against his body. His free hand cupped your cheek and turned your face to meet his. Dean pressed his lips to yours. It was soft, not rough or forceful, yet it felt desperate somehow, pleading, like he needed it to hold himself together and keep from shattering.

            The way his lips moved against yours, and the feeling of his warm body against you sent sparks rippling through you. The hand that was holding your arm let go and circled your waist, pulling you in closer, and you let your own hands slide beneath his leather jacket and flannel shirt, wrapping them around him. The kiss deepened as you felt his growing erection pressing up against you, your own arousal spiking from the friction. His tongue lightly swiped across your bottom lip and you let your mouth fall open, granting him access to explore your mouth.

            The door to the warehouse squeaked open, dissolving whatever was happening  between you and Dean in that moment. Breaking the kiss, and turning around, you turned to see Sam walking towards the Impala. Dean kept his arm around your body as you turned so that he was still holding you close to him from behind when the two of you faced Sam expectantly. Sam went straight to the trunk, opening it and throwing the now unused bindings inside.

"Klaus. He's the one we're looking for." Sam said as he slammed the trunk closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! <3


	59. Fading Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they know the name and possible location of the demon they've been hunting, Sam, Dean, and the reader prepare to confront him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!  
> Violence and Gore.
> 
> Don't hate me. I'm sorry I was absent! <3 I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER!

            "Here." said Dean as he handed you a long, sharp, silver instrument. It was like something you had never seen before.

            "It's an Angel Blade. But works just as well on demons." He said in response to your confused stare. You'd learned about them during your studies. But you hadn't ever seen one in person before, let alone had any idea that the Winchesters had one on hand in the back of the Impala. It was exactly as it sounded, the weapon of angels. They were supposed to be the only ones who carried them, and the only weapons capable of killing other angels.

            You carefully took the blade, turning it over in your hands as you admired the strange weapon. The blade was beautiful, elegant yet simple. It was balanced better than any blade you'd trained with, and there wasn't a scratch, scuff, or flaw of any kind to be found. The silver coloring gave the illusion of an almost ethereal glow emanating from it.

 _I'm holding the weapon of angels,_ you thought to yourself as you gazed down at it in awe.

            "Are you ready?" Dean asked, his hand on your shoulder. Dean was armed with his small shotgun, loaded with salt rounds. It wouldn't kill a demon, but it would definitely hurt. As well as the First Blade. Sam also had his demon knife with him, and now that Dean had given you an angel blade, all three of you had the means to kill a demon. Having something to defend yourself with was little comfort after your last encounter when all you'd managed to do was freeze and watch the boys fight. You weren't a soldier, just a pathetic broken girl. If you hesitated, made a wrong move, or were too slow, that'd be it for you.

            It was a short walk to the location that Sam had managed to elicit from the demon they'd captured. The house was in a fairly quiet, especially so since it was quite late at night, suburban neighborhood. The older kind, where people had real backyards and each house wasn't a copy/paste of the one next to it. They'd parked on another side street just around the block. It was a fairly decent sized two story house on a large corner lot. Other than a small barn, the yard was full of trees and overgrown bushes, giving it privacy from the adjacent houses. Across the street was a small forested area, and behind that was a swamp covered in reeds. Though it was on a somewhat well-trafficked corner, there was little chance that any neighbors would notice any reasons to be suspicious of any happenings inside.

            The house itself had definitely been there a long time, but it wasn't decrepit and neglected like the abandoned houses that Dean used to take you to when you were his prisoner. As a matter of fact, it looked like one of those houses you would pass by and think "I could live there". The green paint was a bit faded, and through the dark windows you could see lace curtains. The entire lot was surrounded by a white picket fence. It had a kind "American Dream" charm to it.

 _At least it would if it wasn't currently infested with monsters._ That thought alone quickly made all the things about it that were charming begin to warp into something haunting and creepy.

            The only light that could be seen within the house was a faint yellow glow coming from one of the upstairs windows. Sam and Dean exchanged one of their looks of silent communication that always looked to you like they must be reading each other's minds. Dean then separated from you and Sam, moving around the back of the house to make sure the lot was clear and also to probably scope out the barn on the opposite side. Sam gestured for you to keep close, his knife raised to chest level preparing for the fight ahead, and the two of you moved silently, crouching below one of the first floor windows. Sliding his knife past the crack beneath the window, Sam managed to turn the latch, unlocking it. Thankfully it didn't creak, only making a small brushing sound as it was carefully forced up and open.

            Sam went in first, making sure the room was clear before turning to help you climb through. As you stepped down off the windowsill, ducking your head, you stumbled slightly. It wasn't much but in the near dead quiet of the building, the sound of your foot bumping into the leg of a small end table seemed like the loudest thing in the world.

            You froze, not daring to breathe as the two of you listened for any sign that someone inside had heard. This time there was a creak, but it came from someone, or some _thing,_ moving upstairs. It only lasted a moment, followed by a dead silence. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you continued to wait, not daring to move. Sam shifted, intent on continuing forward, and as you finally let out the breath you'd been holding, the door to the room burst open. Demons, three of them, Came rushing at you and Sam. He immediately stepped in front of you, catching the first demon by the arm and slamming his demon blade into its chest. There was a loud crack, and a shuddering light emitted from the wound as well as the demons mouth and eyes before going dark. Sam pulled out the blade, shoving the fresh corpse into the next demon. It wasn't enough to hold off the attack.

            Sam was outnumbered and while he was dealing with the second demons, the third came in from the side, ignoring Sam and going straight for you. Again, you froze as the demon rushed you, It's hand wrapped around your neck, closing your airways as you felt your feet lifted from the ground. You looked into where eyes should be but in the darkness of the room, the black orbs looked like empty voids. Your mind spiraled then blanked. Then it happened. You held the angel blade in a death grip and plunged it upwards under the demons ribcage. It didn't take nearly as much strength as you'd imagined, piercing through flesh like it was nothing. The blade went in all the way to the hilt, and immediately, the same crack and light erupted from the demon. The pressure around your throat disappeared and your feet hit the ground. As the body fell backwards, gravity did the work of pulling the blade free for you. It was coated in blood. You killed him. That was the first time you'd ever killed. It was the first time you'd ever even stabbed someone.

            Sam had already taken care of the other demon and was staring at you, and he looked almost impressed. There was no time to really process what had happened. There was a loud commotion coming from another part of the house, and Sam grabbed your wrist, pulling you behind him. Following Sam, you bolted towards the open doorway.  Another demon appeared from around the corner, but was quickly dispatched by Sam without a moment's hesitation. He pulled you fast down the hallway, in the direction that the sounds came from. When the two of you reached the stairs, there were already bodies strewn about. A loud crash followed by a series of grunts could be heard above and Sam, letting go of your wrist, bounded up the stairs.

            Trying not to step over the bodies in the dark, you followed after him, trying and failing to keep up as Sam reached the landing in three long strides before disappearing. When you rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, you found yourself in the same room that you'd seen light shining from when you first approached the house. There were two bodies on the floor, presumably demons, at Dean's feet. Him and Sam were standing shoulder to shoulder, ready to strike at the ones still standing. They were definitely outnumbered this time. Eight demons stood in a semi-circle facing the two hunters. A ninth was sitting casually in a chair in the corner, smiling _at you._

 _It's him._ Your breath caught in your throat as your whole body seemed to lose feeling. The demon in the chair, the one by the name of Klaus. The one sitting with his legs crossed in lounge chair like he was simply enjoying afternoon tea. This was the demon that still haunted your nightmares.

He was smiling at you. It was a smile that set your hair on end and paralyzed you entirely, a sick bile rising in your chest.

"Look who joined the party." He said finally, causing all of the attention in the room to shift to you.  

"Once my friends finish with these two, we'll have some more fun you and me." he said. "Maybe make a few more movies." You watched his eyes glide all the way down your body in a way that felt as violating as any touch before shifting his focus back to the Winchesters.

            At once, all eight demons started forward, closing in on the two hunters while you stood frozen in the doorway. There was no way they could survive this. _No way._ But even though you could see the doubt in Sam's eyes as he appeared to have drawn a similar conclusion, both of them stood their ground. Sam lashed out, his blade aimed for the heart of the nearest enemy. But instead of hitting its mark, the blade was suddenly gone from his hand. It skittered across the floor, landing at Klaus's feet, who just sat there with that amused smile plastered on his face. He waved his hand again and Sam was thrown into the nearby wall, and the sound his head made when it hit the corner of an old chest of drawers echoed through the room.

"Sam!" Dean shouted over his shoulder, both worry and anger etched on his face. But he couldn't go to his brother's aid. The demons were surrounding him.

            You force your legs to move, rushing along the wall to where Sam's body lay slumped against the side of the dresser. Crouching next to him, you checked the damage. Sam was out cold and there was blood from where his head had collided with the wood corner, but at least he was breathing. Dean tore his eyes away from Sam, momentarily locking eyes with you before turning back to the threat before him. Then his demeanor changed suddenly and the air in the room shifted. He straightened, eyeing each demon, keeping track and calculating their every move. All emotion had left his face, and what remained was a cold calm that sent chills up your spine.

            The demons lunged, and Dean reacted. What happened next look more like a dance than a fight. A demon flew forward and Dean stepped to the side. Another demon attacked from behind and again Dean stepped aside, grabbing it's arm and using that forward momentum to swing the demon around right into the first blade that he held in a white knuckle grip with his right hand. The demons moved and so did he, the knife merely an extension of his body. Each move was fluid as Dean avoided any and all attacks, while landing all of his own. It was a dance. It was the most terrifying dance you had ever seen.

** Dean POV **

            Dean felt the heat of the mark flaring through him, and with it, power. His rage, his fear, all of it, disappeared and was replaced by what he could only describe as calm.

_"The first time I touched that blade, I knew I wouldn't be stopped. I knew I would take down Abbadon and anything else if I had to. It wasn't a hero thing, it wasn't... It was just calm. I knew I had to go it alone."_

            This was the same feeling he had then. Blood splattered and bones broke, his blade cutting through everything it touched. It was a pureness he hadn't felt, without guilt, since purgatory, and he didn't fight it. He let himself be swept away by it. As blood coated the blade, feeding it's hunger, so it's power flowed ever stronger through every part of Dean's being. The world was gone, along with everyone in it. There was nothing left but the blade and its victims. He wasn't keeping track of how many he killed, how many he had left. He just gave into it. It was ecstasy.

Something jolted him into focus. His movements stopped.

            Klaus. The demon that was previously enjoying the show was now standing, hand raised in front of him. He was trying to immobilize Dean. It was useless though. Nothing could stop him. Nothing. The hold on him dissipated into nothing and Dean was on top of the demon. He was cutting, slicing, stabbing, and punching long after the crackling lights faded from the demons eyes.

_Dean._

The mark wanted more. _He_ wanted more. Another grabbed him from behind, trying to pull him from his last victim. He turned, grabbing the demon's arm and breaking it with one quick fluid motion. He slammed his fist into the assailant's face.

_Dean._

The sound of splitting bone continued, first the nose, then the jawbone, then the ribs, one by one as he never halted his attack as the flesh beneath him became no more than a bloody pulp.

_Please._

His head exploded in pain. His vision blackened momentarily as strong hands gripped him, dragging him backwards.

As he regained focus, he saw what seemed like an endless pile of bodies surrounding him. Blood. There was blood everywhere. The room was painted with it. He was painted with it.

He looked down at his hand; at the first blade, so saturated with blood it was pouring off the tip.

Then he lifted his gaze to the body of the demon before him.

Except it wasn't a demon.

Dean's eyes grew wide with horror as he took in the sight of  Y/n's beaten and broken form.

 

** Reader's POV **

            The scene playing out before you wasn't a battle. It was a massacre. There was blood everywhere, demons were screaming in agony, and Dean... Dean's eyes were filled with a ferocity, a bloodlust that you'd only ever seen glimpses of when he was a demon. Even though they were green, not black, they weren't human. The Mark of Cain was glowing bright like fire. To say it was unsettling would be an understatement. These demons he was killing, they were monsters who deserved to die. But right now, Dean was the most terrifying and foreboding force in the room.

            You wondered if this is what it was like when Dean found you surrounded by demons at the warehouse in your hometown, the one that Klaus had escaped from. At the time you were barely conscious, but the aftermath was gruesome. And the aftermath of this would be worse. You wanted to look away but you couldn't tear your eyes off Dean and the way he tore through everything he touched. You felt Sam begin to stir next to you and you wondered how he would react if could see his brother in this moment. Would he be able to stop it?

            The "fight" was over swiftly but not nearly swift enough. Dean was surrounded by a ring of bodies, if that's what you could call them at this point. Most were so mutilated they were unrecognizable. Limbs and entrails were scattered about, and everything, _everything_ was coated in blood. The look in Dean's eyes suggested that this was nowhere near over, not for him. It looked like Klaus was trying to use his powers to hold Dean back, but it was useless.

            Dean strode forward, clasping his unarmed hand on the demons shoulder, jerking him downward while simultaneously raising his knee, slamming it hard into his stomach. The fist that Dean had clenched around the blade then came up, hitting Klaus square in the jaw. Before he could recover from the initial attack, Dean shoved him backwards into the chair he was previously sitting in, causing his knees to buckle beneath him as he fell into it. The smug smile on the demons face had long disappeared and was replaced by a look of pure unbridled fear. Dean didn't kill him outright. He pressed the point of the first blade against the soft area between Klaus's collarbone and shoulder. Klaus let out a bloodcurdling scream as the blade was driven deeper and deeper until it wouldn't go any farther, Dean twisting it clockwise as it went. Blood gushed from the wound and you could see it draining over Dean's hand until it reached his wrist where it was dripping off.

            When there was no more satisfaction to be had from that activity, Dean tore the blade from the demons shoulder and, without warning, slashed him across the abdomen. The cut was so deep that for a second you were sure he'd nearly cut the man in half as you watched his insides begin spilling out into his lap. Following that was an endless series of slashing and stabbing.

Klaus, the monster that got away, was dead.

            But that wasn't enough for the man who caused it. The assault didn't stop. Dean was tearing apart a corpse, and showed no signs of slowing down until there was nothing but shredded flesh remaining. It was beyond sickening to watch. You screamed Dean's name but he didn't seem to hear you. Sam still seemed a little out of it, and hadn't quite taken in the situation. You couldn't watch it any longer. It needed to stop.

            Getting up, you began taking steps towards Dean as you continued to scream at him and beg him to stop. The ground was sticky and slick, your stomach churned and lurched knowing that you were walking through a pool of blood and viscera, but you somehow managed to keep down the bile rising in your throat.

"Dean! Dean!" You continued calling to him as you travelled the rest of the distance across the carnage. You didn't know what to do, or how to bring Dean back, but you had to.

"Dean, you have to stop!"

You couldn't bring yourself to look at the pile of flesh in the chair as you grabbed Dean's shoulders and tried to pull him away from the corpse he was mauling.

This was a huge mistake.

            Dean swung around, piercing you with a look that was purely animalistic. He grabbed your arm and wrenched it at an unnatural angle, breaking it. You wailed in pain but were instantly silenced by a bone crushing force to the nose, followed by another, then another. You heard more than felt your ribs breaking as your body started going into shock. You tried to breathe but you only felt warm liquid filling your lungs instead of air. The world started closing in around you. Your body lurched as it fought for air, and everything started going dark. You saw Dean through lidded eyes. The anger was gone from his.

 _Dean._ The word didn't make it to your lips.

Then the monsters, the demons, the pain, the fear. Every feeling, every thought, just fell away.

 

** Dean POV **

            "No. No, no, no, no, no." Dean repeated, tearing himself from his brothers grip and practically falling over Y/n's body. The first blade clattered to the floor.

"No, no. Please. Y/n." He said, sobs escaping his lip as tears began streaming down his face. He cupped her cheeks in both hands, searching her face for some reaction, anything at all. He didn't find one.

"It's okay. It's okay." He whispered, pulling her head into his chest, and stroking her hair with his other hand. "It's fine. It's okay. You're going to be okay. I love you so much. We're goin- we're gonna go home. We-" Dean choked, unable to continue speaking as his body was wracked with sobs. The pain in his chest was unbearable as he sat rocking her in his arms.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back and prayed.

"Cas." He said, his voice barely a whimper. Angels couldn't bring people back from the dead, but he had to. He had to because she couldn't be gone. She couldn't. Not like this. "Please. C-Cas I... I need you. I need you right now. You... You have to help her. Please. God damn it Cas. Please, you have to- you have to fix her. _Please_." he begged.

Nothing happened. Castiel didn't respond to Dean Winchester's desperate plea.

He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder squeezing tightly, and he leaned into it, his body shaking as tears free fell from his eyes. "I'm sorry." he whispered, still rocking gently while he held her to him. "I'm so sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll try to get the next chapter out very soon!!!  
> Please let me know what you thought of this one! <3
> 
> THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE STORY!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first ever fanfiction so please let me know what you think! I would really appreciate any feedback! Thanks for reading! New chapter will be up soon! ^_^


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